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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849884">Promises</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLazyBam/pseuds/TheLazyBam'>TheLazyBam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Torture, Childhood Friends, Cora is not at all good here, Enchantress!Regina, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Regina might need a hug, There Is Only One Bed, Witcher AU, Witcher!Emma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:33:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLazyBam/pseuds/TheLazyBam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When they were children, Emma Swan promised to protect Regina.<br/>So she became a witcher.<br/>Upon returning home, however, she finds that her home has changed for the worse and her friend no longer recognizes her.<br/>Because as far as they are all concerned, Emma Swan has long since died.</p><p>But Emma made a promise and she's not about to start breaking them now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Swan Queen Supernova V: Forever Starstruck, former tabs</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Promise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25958554">The Witcher AU</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilRegal_gis/pseuds/EvilRegal_gis">EvilRegal_gis</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi!<br/>Bam here.</p><p>I don't really believe in stories writing themselves, but this one did. It was meant to be a one-shot but it grew into this long and winding story about one Emma Swan and her struggle to fulfill all her promises.<br/>I love the Witcher and somehow always manage to choose poorly. &gt;___&lt;<br/>There are some original elements added here so it's not going to be completely faithful the Witcher universe.</p><p>Also, the memories are in italics but they are almost never in order.</p><p>Still, I hope you enjoy this story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pub in the village of Fyresdal is just as shitty as she remembers it. In fact, the village of Fyresdal is just as shitty as she remembers it—maybe even more so now that her senses are heightened. Everywhere there’s a stench of rotting fish, human and animal excrement, and seaweed. The air is salty and thick, and everyone smells like brine.</p>
<p>Not that Emma could blame them, of course. Most of the people here make their living off the sea and spend most of their lives fishing.</p>
<p>Still, it doesn’t exclude them from naturally being suspicious of witchers. It’s an all too human response, one Emma hasn’t been since she survived the Trial of Grasses—one of the last few to survive it before Kaer Morhen was attacked and their mages killed, thus forever losing the knowledge on how to make more witchers.</p>
<p>She hears whispers of another witcher who passed by, not too long ago, killed a dragon, and took, as his payment, a hefty bit of gold from the people’s treasury. Since then, Fyresdal has tried to keep its monster problems, when they actually have one, to itself. They cannot afford to hire any more witcher.</p>
<p>She suspects it wasn’t even a dragon at all. There is nothing in the area for a dragon to plunder, and she hasn’t come across a cave big enough for one to hide in. And she knows Vagn, well enough. He means well, but he’s not the brightest spark.</p>
<p>Which would explain the sidelong, suspicious, furtive glances and barely concealed disdain. But Emma isn’t worried. The people of Fyresdal are tough on the outside but soft and tender within.</p>
<p>She can’t believe old Vagn is still the village elder but that’s really none of her concern.</p>
<p>She watches in quiet contemplation as the froth from her ale slowly dissipates. The bread and cheese she bought for dinner are gone and she regrets having it. She could have just hunted game and she would have had a heartier dinner. Instead, she had bread as hard as wood and cheese that was, if at all possible, even harder. It is all she could afford, after all. She hasn’t taken a lot of contracts and requests on her travels and therefore didn’t have a lot of gold on her.</p>
<p><em>Still</em>, she thinks as a cold wind rudely blows over all the patrons when a group of men enter the pub, loudly announcing that they will have five pints of ale, please—<em>still better than shivering outside.</em></p>
<p>It is unseasonably cold, but nothing that should warrant some investigating. Besides, she’s not here to investigate or hunt or fetch or kill. Fyresdal is just another stop to her long journey, one that’s almost over, she just has to survive the night and wait for the snow to stop falling before she can continue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, witcher, are you for hire?” a man says, slamming his ale down in front of Emma and taking the seat directly in front of her. He has a leering smile behind an unkempt beard and rotting teeth.</p>
<p>It’s moments like these when Emma curses her senses. The man’s breath is rancid, and it threatens to disturb the wooden bread and iron cheese that had just started to settle in Emma’s stomach. He smells like he hasn’t had a bath in a month. If Emma concentrates hard enough, she thinks she might be able to pinpoint all the pubs and whorehouses the man has been to, based solely on his stench.</p>
<p>Emma recognizes him as one of the men that walked in earlier. Despite the poor lighting, Emma could tell he’s not a local. His clothes are from somewhere up north, a bit too posh for this humble fishing village. None of them are locals and it shows based on the unhappy murmur that fills the pub.</p>
<p>“Leave it alone,” a man in a corner says.</p>
<p>“Foreigners…” Emma hears another one grumble.</p>
<p>Emma chooses not to engage and instead keeps her head down, still watching the tiny bubbles on her ale pop one by one.</p>
<p>“See, my friends and I are looking for a witcher of your <em>stature</em>. You know? One that could take care of the snake in our trousers.”</p>
<p>Emma hears the rest of his companions laugh.</p>
<p>“I could cut it all off for free if it means you leave me alone,” Emma answers simply, finally looking up and fixing her cat-like green eyes on the man. Underneath the table, and unseen by anyone, the tip of her steel sword rests between the man’s thighs. She shifts enough to cut through the man’s trousers and draw blood.</p>
<p>The effect is instantaneous as the man jumps back, knocking down the bench he was sitting on. The rest of his companions stand up and draw their swords, surrounding Emma. She doesn’t need to look around. Their stench alone makes them easy to track. She can see some of the local patron grumble, take their ale, and move to the other corner of the pub, far from the fight.</p>
<p>The pub owner sighs in resignation. “Loser will pay for the damages,” he says nonchalantly and goes back to wiping the bar.</p>
<p>Emma keeps her head down. She doesn’t want to expend any more effort tonight. She still has a long and arduous journey ahead of her and she needs to keep her strength, but the fight is unavoidable now.</p>
<p>From behind her, she senses a downward swing of a heavy sword. Well, she hears a man roaring with the effort and she simply shifts to the right, causing the sword to lodge on the table. It gets stuck enough so Emma, still sitting down could pull the man by the collar and slam his head on the table, dangerously close to where his sword is lodged. This stuns him long enough for Emma to pull the sword off the table and shift back to her original position. She casts an Axii sign on the stunned man and he immediately stands, picks up his sword and starts attacking his companions. He takes out another one of them before he is knocked out again, leaving only three of them for Emma to finish off.</p>
<p>Emma decides to finally give them temporary names: Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest.</p>
<p>Still, Emma does nothing. She waits. She could just as easily finish them off, but that would mean standing up and making an effort. She’s perfectly content to sit there and wait for them to make the biggest mistake of their lives: attacking a witcher, more specifically, attacking Emma.</p>
<p>But their egos are bruised now so they attack as one.</p>
<p>Emma’s reflexes, however, are quick enough to distinguish the minute differences in their timing. She slides under the table, and exits to the other side, pulling Dumb, the closest one, and slamming his head on the table. It isn’t enough to knock him out, but it’s enough to stun him, giving Emma time to kick him towards Dumber, causing them both to crash to another table.</p>
<p>Dumbest grabs a second sword, for some reason, and decides to take another swing at Emma but she just slides back down under the table, coming back out where she was originally sitting, on the way grabbing her steel sword and, still sheathed, pushes it onto Dumbest’s diaphragm. He doubles over and it’s just enough invitation for Emma to pull her sword up, crashing the hilt to his forehead, putting him to sleep.</p>
<p>Dumb and Dumber, meanwhile, are now recovering and quickly scramble for their swords. They find Emma sitting still in her original position, about to reach for her ale. They raise their swords but Emma decides to initiate this time and throws the metal plate where her bread and cheese used to be, at Dumb, hitting him square on the forehead. This leaves Dumber to attack Emma, still with their signature wild sword swinging which Emma again dodges easily. Emma slams her open palm down on the table, trapping the sword between her palm and the impressively sturdy wooden table, and with her other hand, she pulls the guy forward. He lets go of his sword and tries to stop his head from slamming on to the table by putting his hands out. Emma, however, is anticipating this and with her now free hand, grabs a fork and a knife and stabs the guys hands, pinning them both on the table.</p>
<p>His screams of agony echo throughout the pub as Emma hears a collective wince in response.</p>
<p>Dumb is shaking his head and sees his predicament. Three of his friends are unconscious and one of them has both hands nailed to a table, screaming in agony. But, true to his name, he tries one more time. Before he raises his sword, however, Emma has already unsheathed her steel sword and pokes it at his stomach, deep enough to wound him.</p>
<p>She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him.</p>
<p>He drops his sword and tries to run but Emma throws her flagon at the back of his head and this is enough to knock him out. He throws a heavy punch at the man nailed at the table and he finally stops screaming. Emma pulls the knife and fork from his hands and lets him slump down the floor.</p>
<p>Only then does Emma stand up. She searches their pockets and hands over half the gold she finds at the pub owner who just nods. He gestures at some of the men near the bar and they drag the unconscious men out.</p>
<p>Emma gets another flagon of ale and spends the rest of the evening in contemplative silence, sitting in a corner of the pub, feeling the universe around her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morning comes with slivers of sunlight, a good omen for Emma. The snow has stopped falling and it isn’t enough to freeze the shores of Fyresdal. She stands up, thanks the pub owner, and walks out.</p>
<p>She walks past stone houses with thatched roofs and tries to remember. When she last walked these roads, she was a child, no older than ten. Unlike most witchers, she wasn’t recruited or taken. She had undergone the journey herself to Kaer Morhen and almost died several times along the way. And when she finally made it to the castle, she was only given a day to rest.</p>
<p>Starved, weak, and near emaciated, Emma accepted the Trial of the Grasses. Nobody expected her to survive. Not in the state she had been in just before she went through it. After receiving the concoction, Emma knew pain for seven days that seemed to stretch into eternity. It felt like her every muscle was being ripped apart. She felt her blood and sweat draining through her skin. She was burning and then cold and then burning again. But Emma never asked for death.</p>
<p>She had gone through so much and so much more was at stake. She remembered seeing faces. She remembered seeing <em>her. She</em> couldn’t fail. She <em>shouldn’t</em> fail. So, she latched on to the last vestiges of her sanity until suddenly, it was over. When she woke up, her entire body was in pain but nothing as bad as what she had gone through.</p>
<p>Out of the nine children that were with her, only two others survived. After that were years and years of grueling mental, physical and sign training. That was almost fifteen years ago.</p>
<p>So much time has passed, but she looks no older than eighteen. She won’t look any older than that for a very long time.</p>
<p>People stay away or move to the other side of the road when they see her. It isn’t uncommon. It took Emma a few days to get used to it. By now, it’s almost suspicious if common folk aren’t afraid of her. And she can’t blame them. After all, in a Continent filled with monsters ready to eat them, what could be scarier than someone who is powerful enough to hunt down and kill said creatures?</p>
<p>Witchers are a necessity, sure. But as soon as their jobs are done and they stop being useful, they become the monster the villagers fear.</p>
<p>But that doesn’t matter, not where she’s going anyway.</p>
<p>She stops by an old cottage down by the docks and waves at the old man sitting on a rocking chair just outside his home, quietly smoking his pipe.</p>
<p>“So, you’ve come to fetch your tiny boat?” the old man says without looking up at Emma. He is swaddled in layers of fur, his head and hands sticking out like twigs beneath a pile of bear fur. His bald head is exposed but half his face is covered by a beard so long, it nearly reaches his stomach.</p>
<p>“I hope you’ve maintained it as instructed?” Emma asks, looking around.</p>
<p>The old man grumbles, coughs, and holds out his hand. “You haven’t aged a lot,” he says, finally swiveling his beady eyes onto Emma. He notices Emma’s cat eyes and sighs. “And yet you’ve changed so much. I hope your journey was worth it.”</p>
<p>“I haven’t finished it yet,” Emma says, taking the old man’s hands and pulling him up. “I’m close though. Which is why I need my boat back.”</p>
<p>He grumbles in response and shambles down the docks. Emma follows him, falling to his side. Once again, the people part at Emma’s presence.</p>
<p>“Hmm. That’s handy,” the old man says, walking without delay with a speed that is alarming for someone his age.</p>
<p>Emma doesn’t say anything but looks for her boat among the bigger fishing vessels docked at the pier.</p>
<p>At the very end, she finds a familiar sight. Her catboat. Even at a distance she notes the new layer of varnish and the fairly new canvass.</p>
<p>“You’ve kept her well-maintained, more than I could have asked for,” Emma says at the old man.</p>
<p>“I had nothing better to do,” the old man shrugs. Or at least Emma thinks he shrugs. She couldn’t tell beneath the layers of fur. “You kept sending me money and it didn’t seem fair that I waste it all on pipe and betting on gwent. So, I decided to fix and maintain it from time to time. Gave it a few laps around just to make sure it’s all working well and good.”</p>
<p>Emma nods and hands over a small bag of money to the old man.</p>
<p>“Now, what is this for?” the old man peers at Emma.</p>
<p>“I picked up a few more coins last night. Bought some supplies and I still had some left. Thought I’d just give it to you. Where I’m going, I’m not going to need it anyway.” Emma is no longer looking at the man, her eyes only on her catboat. And then, she remembers. “I never did get your name.”</p>
<p>The old man’s beady eyes peer up at Emma. “You won’t be needing it. I doubt we’ll see each other again.”</p>
<p>Emma nods but the man hesitates.</p>
<p>“Y—you should know. There are rumors,” the old man starts. He turns his head to the horizon.</p>
<p>Emma furrows her brows and waits.</p>
<p>“Some years ago, a few fishermen disappeared. Their bodies washed ashore after a storm hit and it had unfamiliar markings. Some say it was done by an evil sorceress or something. But after that, Einar—that’s where you are headed, yes?—well, after that, no one has heard from anyone there. They say those who venture towards it get turned around by a frightful storm or just get lost in a thick mist.”</p>
<p>“These markings? What did they look like?” Emma asks.</p>
<p>“We don’t know. It was during the war and nobody had time to investigate a few missing fishermen. They were buried immediately and nothing much happened after that anyway, just a few more fishermen getting lost or turned around. They’d eventually find their way back.”</p>
<p>Emma hums but moves towards her catboat. She doesn’t say goodbye. She doesn’t look back. She throws her few belongings onto the catboat, unties it, and begins the last leg of her journey home.</p>
<p>There’s only one way to confirm these rumors, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Einar is a couple of weeks’ sailing, south of Fyresdal. She imagines that if she tells people this, they will think it’s insanity to cross the sea using a tiny catboat. But Einar is home and Emma knows the seas even as a child. A catboat is perfectly fine, especially since she’s sailing alone.</p>
<p>What concerns her are the rumored storms and mists.</p>
<p>When she was a child, her adoptive father would bring her with him when crossing the sea towards Fyresdal, gathering supplies and selling some of their wares. The worst that has come across their island, or during their numerous crossings, is a mild storm that didn’t even destroy their poorly thatched roof.</p>
<p>But sure enough, there is a storm. She reckons she’s about three days away from Einar when the skies suddenly darken, and the waters rise. Emma knew there isn’t anything natural about the storm. She could sense magic in it, old and powerful. It is too sudden, too violent, and unseasonable.</p>
<p>Her poor catboat didn’t stand a chance.</p>
<p>But Emma is a witcher and despite the battery of winds and waves and rain, she is just able to swim to shore before collapsing in exhaustion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma wakes up to the harsh sun burning her face, blinding her eyes. She can feel the waves gently lapping at her and she sits up. There is no sign of any storm on the horizon, as if it never happened.</p>
<p>The beach where she washes up on is deserted. From where she’s sitting, facing the vast sea, she can see a cliff face with a sheer drop to her right, the top of which she can barely make out. At the bottom of the cliff are sharp, jagged rocks. Emma is only too grateful she didn’t wash up on that part of the beach.</p>
<p>Everywhere else is thick, dark woods and it is quiet. <em>Too quiet.</em></p>
<p>She narrows her eyes as she looks around. There’s not a single bird cawing or insect buzzing, and it nags at her. Most importantly, she doesn’t recognize any of this. She doesn’t remember any cliff face, or thick, menacing-looking woods.</p>
<p>Not that Emma can definitively say that she has walked over every inch of Einar, but she would have at least remembered any mention of dark woods. As far as she knows, almost all of Einar is covered by the Enchanted Forest. And the Enchanted Forest is neither menacing nor quiet.</p>
<p>She shakes her head and gingerly stands. The sun is directly above her head and she needs to find food and water, <em>especially water</em>, soon. She thinks about removing her studded leather armor, but she is not familiar with this place and she will need every advantage she has. She’s also somewhat relieved that she didn’t manage to lose her swords and she straps them tighter to her as she walks towards the edge of the woods.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s been walking for what feels like a few hours and she’s yet to encounter anyone. It is still too quiet. Only the breeze, moving branches and leaves, make any sort of sound. She encountered a pond a while back, but it is poisoned with dead creatures.</p>
<p>She is thirsty, hungry, and extremely uncomfortable but she pushes deeper into the woods, some sort of internal compass guiding her. By instinct, she knows she’s pushing towards something familiar but she’s not sure how much farther she has to go. Her witcher senses on high alert, she looks around constantly for anything to eat or drink but everything is poison or poisoned, or highly questionable and while normally that wouldn’t be a problem, Emma is trying to conserve her strength. She can feel the exhaustion creeping up on her again, her legs starting to feel like lead, but she has no choice. She ventures forward.</p>
<p>Despite the thick canopy, she can tell that the sun is about to set. She thinks about setting up camp for the night. She’s not stopping because she can’t see. She can see things well enough in the dark. She is, however, trying to conserve what little strength she has left. She has no potions or food and the only weapons she has are her swords. There’s also the chill that’s started to creep in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She decides to walk for an hour or so more and she comes upon a clearing. She takes on the faint smell of apples and her mouth waters. Her instincts hold her back and she blends into the forest to observe the clearing first. She can hear her stomach growling, feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones. She may be a witcher but even witchers have limits… and Emma is just about to reach hers.</p>
<p>In the middle of the clearing is a small pond with moss covered stones surrounding it. There are tree stumps every few feet or so. Emma tries to look for an apple tree nearby but finds none.</p>
<p>Again, she is perturbed by the fact that she doesn’t recognize any of this. She is sure she is in Einar. She can feel it deep in her bones, but which part of Einar, she can’t be sure.</p>
<p>She spends a few more minutes just observing the clearing before she emerges, cautiously, and heads straight for the pond. It smells clean enough, faintly sweet, but nothing too concerning. It murmurs, the water coming from somewhere underground. She takes a small scoop of water and tests it. Finding nothing objectionable with the way it tastes, she is overcome with the need to just dunk her entire head in, drinking as much water as she can.</p>
<p>When she resurfaces a few seconds later, she quickly looks around. She hears the unmistakable sounds of footfalls and soft whispers. She quietly runs back to the shadows of the forest and blends in, looking intently at the direction where the sounds are coming from.</p>
<p>Soon enough two people emerge, casting furtive glances around them. They’re carrying buckets and wineskins, no doubt to get water from the pond.</p>
<p>Both are lean, with gaunt faces, the female slightly taller than the male. The female has dark brown hair with flecks of red, long features, and wide eyes. The male has dark, unevenly shaved facial hair, and messy hair.</p>
<p>Their clothes, while not exactly dirty, are tattered and ill-fitting, as if they’ve shrunk inside their own clothes.</p>
<p>Their arms and legs are sinewy, and Emma has seen them on people who work hard labor with very little food. It is a sort of dried up look, with veins protruding on thin, wiry limbs.</p>
<p>“I’m telling you; she swears she saw a boat approach a few days back,” the female is saying.</p>
<p>The male scoffs, “Granny is old and her eyes are tired. She must have been hallucinating. And even if that’s true, what could one boat do?”</p>
<p>Emma’s heart hitches upon hearing this. <em>Granny?</em> Her mind is telling her that there are maybe a few other Granny’s in Einar.</p>
<p>And yet…</p>
<p>“I’m not saying the boat is the solution to everything. I’m saying that a boat survived, and possibly whoever is in it might have also survived the sorceress’ enchantments,” the female explains, but even she sounds doubtful of her words.</p>
<p>“Whatever, Red. We have to hurry though; the sun is about to set, and I swear it’s getting cold. Maybe that boat brought winter with it or something.”</p>
<p><em>Red?</em> It can’t be—</p>
<p>Her thoughts are interrupted when she hears something coming from the forest directly behind the two figures who are still quietly bickering. They can’t hear it yet. But from the smell alone, Emma knows what’s coming for them.</p>
<p>Emma focuses. <em>Ghouls</em>? In daylight? And so far away from a cemetery? Not that Emma is sure there’s no cemetery nearby, but she really hasn’t passed any.</p>
<p>She doesn’t have much time to ponder on it though as she runs around the edge of the clearing, still staying within the shadows, trying to cut off the ghouls before they reach the two unsuspecting humans.</p>
<p>One of the ghouls is just about to emerge from the forest when she reaches it in time and in one swing of her silver sword, cuts of its head. She turns to the two at the pond and yells at them, “Run!”</p>
<p>She doesn’t have time to check whether they follow her instruction or not as she realizes that there are about a dozen ghouls coming towards her. She makes as much noise as she can, directing them towards her and dispatching them as quickly as possible. She keeps to the woods, knowing that the trees would likely keep her from getting surrounded, serving as blocks for her. At the back of her mind, she hopes the two humans have run away but she doesn’t have time to check on them.</p>
<p>She keeps her distance, killing them off one at a time before running away and coming back again. It’s tiring and takes a lot of her strength, but this prevents her from being surrounded.</p>
<p>With the last of her strength, she sinks her silver sword at the only remaining ghoul in her vicinity. She barely has enough left in her to stand but she pushes her body and sheathes her sword.</p>
<p>She knows she looks and smells filthy, so she crawls towards the pond hoping at least for a drop of water before she passes out. She is almost at the edge of the pond, the moss stones cold beneath her grasp when the world throbs and darkness takes over.</p>
<p>Her last thoughts were of <em>her</em>…</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>There was an abandoned hunter’s lodge an hour’s walk from her home, deep into the forest. They said it was haunted, but Emma had been there too often to know it really wasn’t. It had a bed, a small table, a fireplace, empty shelves and cupboards, and nothing much else. Whoever used to live there really cleaned the place out. It also had a hidden door leading to the basement. It was where Emma would hide some of the curious things she found in the forest. It was also where she left her gifts for her friend whenever she and her father would travel to the mainland, via Fyresdal. She always made sure to buy, or in some cases, steal, something for her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The lodge could use a bit of a fix and Emma had done the best her little hands could do. The roof definitely needed some proper thatching. Still, it was their secret place.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Presently, she was preparing some bread, cheese, and a couple of fishes were almost done roasting on the firepit. She had also gathered a few berries along the way. She looked proudly at the table, satisfied at the feast she had brought.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m sorry, I’m late,” a quiet voice said behind her and Emma nearly jumped. “I saw the smoke from the fireplace, but Mother was being difficult again.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma turned around and smiled at her companion. She gestured with open arms. “Happy birthday!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The other girl furrowed her brows. “It’s not my birthday.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma smiled sheepishly. “How do you know that? You said you don’t know when your birthday is and you don’t celebrate them. But birthdays are fun. So, I thought to myself earlier, I should at least give you a small party and we can pretend today is your birthday.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The girl shakes her head, but she smiles that smile that makes Emma’s heart thrum happily. “You are too kind, Emma Swan.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Not kind enough. But see what I brought you!” Emma produced from her pocket a red apple.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“An apple?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes. You told me before they are your favorite.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The girl laughs. “Yes, and I also told you I have an apple tree behind our house.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma looked confused. “You did? I don’t recall.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, your memory has never really been your strong suit,” the girl said but she took the apple anyway and bit into it. “But this apple is just as sweet as you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma felt warmth spread throughout her face and neck and, unable to really say much else, she turned her attention to the firepit. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was aware that the other girl was staring at her, observing her movement. She tended to do that. She didn’t really like saying much and that was fine with Emma. Usually, whenever they would meet, Emma would be the one telling her stories of what she had been up to, the latest village gossip, and all the wonders that she had seen since they last met. Her friend often contented herself with listening to Emma.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When Emma would ask about her day, she would often shrug and say that it was the same as yesterday: books, chores, some gardening, a lot of reading, and not much else.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She placed the fishes on a wooden plate that the girl had stolen from her house. She sat beside the girl and gingerly started tearing chunks of meat, for the other girl to eat, making sure to get rid of bones. They don’t really have forks or knives and it was something Emma had been saving for. She didn’t think her friend deserved eating the way Emma does. But her friend never complained. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Still though, it would be nice to have some cutlery for her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Father and I are leaving again tomorrow and won’t be back for a month or so, depending on his business,” Emma said, her thoughts focused on the fish, trying to ignore how hot it was.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The girl didn’t respond but there was a hint of sadness on her face there that Emma could not ignore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hey, you know I will always come back, right?” Emma said, wiping her hand at the back of her shirt and taking her friend’s hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her friend nods.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And besides, I already promised you I will fix this lodge so we can live here when we’re older,” Emma added, gesturing around them.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What does that have to do with anything?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, I haven’t fixed it yet, so that means I have to keep coming back and I cannot die before that happens.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her friend laughed at that and Emma thought it sounded beautiful. “That doesn’t make any sense.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes, it does!” Emma insisted, tightening her hold on her friend’s hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Okay, okay. If you say so.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t break my promises, at least not the ones I made to you. So, if I promise to be back, I will be back.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll hold you to it, Emma Swan.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You better, Regina Mills.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Evil Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is she?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“She smells filthy.”</p>
<p>“Well, that’s probably because she’s covered in ghoul guts.”</p>
<p>“And then she just passed out?”</p>
<p>“Yes. How many more times do I have to tell this story?”</p>
<p>“Well, why did you bring her here?”</p>
<p>“Because she saved our lives!”</p>
<p>“Keep it down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma groans. She doesn’t want to, but the more of her consciousness fades back, the more she realizes how much her entire body is hurting. She opens her eyes and finds three other people peering at her from what they probably thought is a safe distance across the room. She tries to move but she discovers she is sitting against a wooden beam, her hands and feet bound by straw rope.</p>
<p>Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but she’s so starved and exhausted she doesn’t even try to get out of it.</p>
<p>There is a fading light from a single candle above her but it’s enough to help her cat eyes see. She’s in some sort of storage room, probably a cellar. She sees wooden barrels on one side and a whole wall lined with empty, dusty shelves. The floor she is sitting on is earthen but there are portions of the floor that are covered with wood. She sees a ladder on the opposite end of the room. The entire room is basically empty, as if it hasn’t been used for a long time.</p>
<p>“Food?” she asks, turning to the three people who have jumped and moved farther away now. “Or maybe just water?”</p>
<p>Red, she recognizes from the clearing, inches her way towards Emma. The two other people with her hisses at Red, cautioning her, asking her what she’s doing.</p>
<p>“You’re not going to kill us?” Ruby asks.</p>
<p>“Not unless you give me any reason to,” Emma answers. Her voice is husky and her throat is dry.</p>
<p>“You should know, we have hidden your swords. You won’t find them,” Ruby says, her confidence is growing but Emma can hear it trembling still.</p>
<p>She closes her eyes and focuses. She can still smell the foul ghoul stench covering the sheaths of her sword. They are close, probably in one of the barrels.</p>
<p>“That’s fine. Just make sure to keep them somewhere dry or they might rust,” Emma answers, not looking at the barrels.</p>
<p>“We only have gruel.”</p>
<p>Emma nods. “And water, please.”</p>
<p>She sees Ruby hesitate. “We… we don’t have much water. We had to leave our buckets in the pond where we found you so we could carry you back here.”</p>
<p>Emma furrows her brows. So, she hasn’t been out for long. That’s good, at least.</p>
<p>“Then let me have some gruel and I will gladly help bring the buckets with water back here as soon as I have recovered some strength.”</p>
<p>Someone from the other side of the room pipes up. “It is almost midnight. There are a lot of monsters now. Venturing out will be suicide. Best wait until morning.”</p>
<p>She sees Ruby nod. “But we will get you some gruel, at least. And I’ll see about the water. Maybe we have some left. Only, promise me you will not harm us.”</p>
<p>Emma tries to smile what she hopes looks like a reassuring smile. “I promise.”</p>
<p>She hears the three of them scamper out, quickly, whispering amongst themselves. She hears the door close quietly and once again she is alone with her thoughts. She closes her eyes and tries to extend her senses.</p>
<p>She can sense other buildings nearby. She can smell other people. She hears some snoring, and she definitely hears the snarling of beasts from somewhere in the distance.</p>
<p>Soon, she hears footsteps coming back. She sees Ruby carrying a bowl in one hand and a stool on the other. She places the stool beside Emma and puts the bowl, only about a third full of gruel, on top of it.</p>
<p>“This is all we have, I’m afraid,” Ruby looks almost apologetic until Emma sees her gaze landing on Emma’s eyes. “You’re not human…”</p>
<p>Emma shakes her head. “I was. I haven’t been for some time now.”</p>
<p>“What are you then?” Ruby asks as she takes a step back and furtively glances at her two companions standing a few feet behind her.</p>
<p>“I’m a witcher,” Emma replies simply.</p>
<p>She sees Ruby frown, searching for something on Emma’s face. “I might have heard of witchers. Some old, forgotten story…definitely not good.”</p>
<p>“Witchers were originally created to hunt evil witches, but over time, our work extended to hunting for monsters and magical creatures, doing odd jobs here and there to survive,” Emma explains as patiently as she can. But her senses are being overwhelmed with the need to eat and all she could think about is the gruel sitting not one foot away from her. “I will be more than happy to answer all your questions as soon as you free my hands at least, so I can eat.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Ruby replies, and she warily unties Emma’s hands, allowing Emma to take the bowl beside her. It is almost tasteless and gone in four spoonsful. But it is warm, and Emma is grateful.</p>
<p>She exhales, carefully places the bowl back on top of the stool and fixes her gaze on Red. “Thank you for the meal.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for saving us.”</p>
<p>Emma offers her hands to Red. “You may tie me again, if you wish, so you can rest for the evening. I have no intention of escaping but if it at least gives you some peace of mind…”</p>
<p>She sees Ruby turn around and sigh. “No, you need to recover your strength too. We’ll talk more in the morning. But I will need you to be quiet. This town isn’t so welcoming to strangers.”</p>
<p>Emma nods slightly. “And where am I, exactly?”</p>
<p>“You don’t know?”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure. A storm brought me here.”</p>
<p>Ruby straightens up. “You are on the Isle of Einar, in the Enchanted Forest, in a small village called Storybrooke.”</p>
<p>Emma tries to school her features while her heart clenches.</p>
<p>“And your name?”</p>
<p>She sees Ruby pause. “You may call me Ruby. You?”</p>
<p>Emma weighs her options and decides quickly. “My name died when I did. But you may call me Svane.”</p>
<p>For a moment, Ruby doesn’t say anything. She looks to her companions who are still warily observing them. “I’ll see if I can get you more food in the morning.”</p>
<p>“Actually,” Emma starts, shifting up to sit more comfortably against the beam, “If you can point me to a hunting ground, I can hunt some game. I refuse to rely on your hospitality, seeing as you have very little for yourselves.”</p>
<p>Ruby scoffs and Emma sees the other two look at each other, and then on the ground. “The remaining hunting grounds are property of the Evil Queen and she does not suffer trespassers lightly.”</p>
<p>“Evil Queen?”</p>
<p>There is a drop in Ruby’s voice, the fear and trembling returning. “She rules these lands and by harboring you, we are already breaking the law. If she finds out that you have been trespassing on her property and that we have provided food and shelter for you, she will see us burn.”</p>
<p>“I see. Well, then, I’ll be off by dawn. Hand me my swords and let me sleep for a little while. Tomorrow, it will be as if I had never been here. Just point me to the general direction of her hunting grounds.”</p>
<p>Ruby shakes her head, eyes wide. “Haven’t you been listening? The Evil Queen will catch you and put you to death.”</p>
<p>“Then that’s going to be my problem. You said so yourself, by staying here, I put all of you in danger. Let me recover my strength and I’ll be on my way. If she catches me, she will never know I was here.”</p>
<p>“She has magic and potions and all those sorts of things. Once she throws you in her dungeon, she will torture you until she has gotten what she needs and then she might kill you, depending on her mood.”</p>
<p>Emma sees Ruby’s two companions shiver, as if a cold wind blew down their spine.</p>
<p>“As I said, that’s going to be my problem.”</p>
<p>“I—” Ruby pauses, as if to think, then shakes her head and looks sternly at Emma. “Look, I will do as you ask, but don’t say we didn’t warn you. Turn west from here and follow the winding path, until you reach two massive boulders. Turn south. The path will disappear once you reach the forest but it’s just straight on till you find the clearing where you saved us. The Evil Queen’s hunting grounds is a day’s walk south of that. I suggest you get your fill of water there first. There are no clean water sources until you get to the hunting grounds. You can take some of the wineskins we left at the clearing.” Ruby pauses again, chewing her lower lip. “We don’t owe you for saving our lives anymore.” Ruby says as she proceeds to untie Emma’s feet.</p>
<p>“You never owed me anything. I saved you because it is the right thing to do. But I am grateful for the meal and the roof over my head.”</p>
<p>Ruby simply nods and says nothing.</p>
<p>“How would I know when I have arrived at the Evil Queen’s hunting grounds? Also, would you happen to know what other creatures are out there?” Emma asks as she mentally maps out her trail, overlaying it on top of the map in her memory. Much has changed, it seems. And there is much she has to learn.</p>
<p>“You would know. The air is different there. Lighter, less… <em>malevolent</em>, I suppose, is the right term. As for your other question, other than ghouls, wolves, and wild hounds, we wouldn’t know. I have only ever been to the hunting grounds once, and it was at the behest of the Evil Queen. These days, no one ventures past the clearing. Those who do never come back,” Ruby replies, and after a beat, she adds, “Your swords are in that barrel,” Ruby says, pointing to the barrel. “Take care, Witcher Svane.”</p>
<p>“It’s just Svane. No need to tack on the ‘Witcher’,” Emma says, glancing at where Ruby is pointing.</p>
<p>“Sure, Witcher Svane,” Ruby says and ushers her two companions up the ladder.</p>
<p>“Ruby?” Emma calls out. Ruby pauses to turn to her. “Yes?”</p>
<p>“I’m--,” she wants to tell her. She has so many questions she wants to ask, but her witcher instincts win out. “I—Thank you…”</p>
<p>Ruby doesn’t say anything, but Emma sees the mournful glance before she bows her head slightly and proceeds to climb up the ladder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“I told you not to eat those mushrooms,” Regina said quietly as Emma rolled around on the straw bed, clutching at her stomach.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“They looked edible,” Emma groaned. She felt like she swallowed a thousand tiny needles and now her stomach was trying to digest it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And I told you they’re not. We should get you to the village healer immediately,” Regina insisted.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No! I’ll be fine. I’ve eaten worse. Just let me rest,” Emma answered, but even she wasn’t convinced with her words.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please, Emma…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll be fine. Read to me and let me rest. And then we’ll go outside and play again,” Emma half-pleaded and half-exclaimed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She saw a look pass through Regina’s dark eyes, but it quickly disappeared, and Emma heard Regina huff. “Very well, but if you die, I’ll curse you and your headstone so you will never find rest.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma laughed. “I won’t die.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She watched as Regina stood from the rickety stool and walked towards her. She sat on the bed, lifted Emma’s head so that it rested on her lap. The last thing Emma recalled before falling into a dreamless nap is a warm hand on the small of her back.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When she woke up, it was almost dark. The sun had begun to set. Her stomach had stopped roiling and she was hungry and thirsty.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She looked around.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Regina was gone, which was to be expected. She never stayed past mid-afternoon. But she had left a few fruits and nuts and some water with a note that simply said, “Eat these.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma wakes up, still hearing the echoes of her dream and she clutches at her chest, feeling a familiar ache. It is rare that she dreams. Mostly, she remembers.</p>
<p>She shakes her head and forces herself to focus on her tasks at hand.</p>
<p>She senses the shift in temperature, signaling the start of dawn. She blows out the candle, enveloping the entire room in darkness. It takes a second for her eyes to adjust. She fetches her swords from the barrel and sees that all of them, aside from the one housing her swords, are empty and dry. She sees cobwebs and a thick layer of dust gathering inside them.</p>
<p>She checks the empty shelves and find that they are about as dusty as the barrels and she wonders how long they’ve been empty.</p>
<p>She heads up and out, finding the door unlocked for her.</p>
<p>She finds Ruby and Granny, a few years older than she remembers, sharing a bed and a tattered quilt. The two others she doesn’t recognize are on a sleeping mat on the floor, all of them soundly asleep. She carefully, quietly walks past them and is surprised to find the door open. She supposes, since there is none here to steal, there’s none to keep behind closed doors.</p>
<p>She keeps to the shadows, the call of beasts and monsters still active. However, instead of following the path Ruby gave her, she heads to the eastern end of the village.</p>
<p>She’s sure there’s no one outside, but she doesn’t want to risk being seen. If it’s true that the Evil Queen is hostile to all outsiders, she doesn’t want to risk endangering the villagers. She resists the urge to reminisce as she walks past familiar cottages, now looking beaten and weather worn. If she lets her mind wander, she’s sure she can tell which family lives where. Instead, she focuses on her task at hand.</p>
<p>After a few more minutes, she comes upon a sight that nearly breaks her heart.</p>
<p>Where there used to be a humble stone cottage with unevenly thatched roof, a small garden in front and a low fence that served only to mark the borders of the property, now there’s only a charred ghost of a house. She can still plainly see bottom layers of stone, outlining the house, but the stones are blackened by fire, it seems. Nothing much else remains.</p>
<p>She can make out the little plots where her mother planted herbs and some vegetables, and the stone steps leading to their front door. The fence is all but gone, with just a few pegs jutting here and there. Under the pale moonlight, it looks haunted.</p>
<p>Emma notes that it is also the only house in the village that is burned down.</p>
<p>She grits her teeth and closes her eyes to calm herself.</p>
<p>She will have her answers. She will meet this Evil Queen. But first, one more stop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Farther to the east, she ventures out. She sees the wall the villagers have built to surround their tiny village, but there are holes and gaps big enough for Emma’s size to fit through. For a second, she wonders how these villagers have managed to stay relatively safe within these haphazardly built walls. She inhales and smells something vaguely familiar, like a memory at the back of her head. <em>Apples.</em></p>
<p>She gets her bearings and runs as quietly as she can, her senses on high alert, making sure she’s always down wind. She runs past drowners and a few more ghoul nests, until she comes upon her second stop.</p>
<p>It used to take her tiny, little legs an hour to hike up the trail to the abandoned hunter’s lodge but now that she’s faster and her legs are longer, it takes her less than half that time. She is about to enter the lodge when her senses fire off.</p>
<p>The entire lodge is surrounded and covered by a dome of magic, invisible to the human eye, pulsing and shimmering. In stark contrast to the foul, malevolent atmosphere of the entire island, this one place is serene, peaceful.</p>
<p>
  <em>Loved.</em>
</p>
<p>From where she stands, she can see that within the enchantment, the lodge has been preserved exactly how she remembers it: the same hole in the roof, the same window hanging on to its last hinge, the same poorly patched door that took her a whole day, her hammer hitting her inexperienced fingers several times, to somewhat fix. Even the tiny bluebells outside, the ones she planted because Regina once remarked that she liked them, are still alive, still about as tall as when she last saw them.</p>
<p>While Emma is nearly immune to magic, she doesn’t dare disturb the dome of magic around the lodge. Instead she walks, cautiously along its perimeter, to see if she can find more puzzle pieces. Finding none, and quite frankly getting hungrier as she thinks of the apple pies Regina used to bring for her, her memory so vivid that she can almost smell it, she heads back towards the village, running around it, still careful to keep to the shadows, and finally, just as the sun is about to pierce the morning sky, she arrives back at the clearing with the pond.</p>
<p>She finds the empty wooden buckets and some wineskins, and in a snap judgement, decides to fill the buckets and leave them where the two boulders are, hoping that Ruby and the rest of the villagers find them there.</p>
<p>She takes about a total of three trips back and forth, the sun already fully out when she finishes, taking for herself a single wineskin and filling it with water.</p>
<p>She heads south towards the Evil Queen’s hunting grounds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma suspects that when Ruby told her it is a day’s walk, they were talking about a human’s pace. Emma, of course, is no longer human. She is also fully rested, a little bit hungry, but nothing a bit of game can’t fix.</p>
<p>She runs through her plan in her head. Get food. Investigate the Evil Queen and what happened to Einar.</p>
<p>She knows it’s not much of a plan, but Emma has survived with less. She wonders for a second what has happened with Regina. She mourns the fact that she never did find out where Regina lived, the other girl refusing to tell her for fear of her mother.</p>
<p>The sun is almost about to set when she stops.</p>
<p>She’s arrived and Ruby is right. The air is indeed different. But not really different, more…familiar.</p>
<p>It smells like home, like how the Enchanted Forest used to smell like. And it is alive. She hears birds and bugs and mating calls. She hears the murmuring of brooks and the chittering of smaller mammals.</p>
<p>Everything overwhelms her and she’s hit with a singular thought: <em>I’m home.</em></p>
<p>But her emotions are quickly overcome by her senses when she hears the familiar sound of footsteps.</p>
<p>She quickly steps back and hides behind thick tree trunks.</p>
<p>Soon enough, two shapes pass by at a distance. They are clad in deep black leather armor, their faces covered by a metal helmet with narrow slits. They carry a long spear, a steel sword, and a bow, all in deep black. They look around but don’t seem to be looking for anything in particular. <em>Roving guards</em>, Emma thinks.</p>
<p>It does not escape Emma how quiet the two guards are. If her senses had been that of a human, she would have never heard them coming. She can also sense a strong amount of magic emanating from them.</p>
<p>She considers following them but decides against it. If they are roving, they will return. First, she needs to find food and a safe place to hunker down for the night. She knows she can’t start a fire so fruits, mushrooms, and nuts are her only choices for now. Her bigger concern is the sudden chill that has seemingly spread throughout Einar, as if her coming also heralded the coming of winter. She thinks about the village and how they don’t even seem to have working furnaces, coal, or even firewood…</p>
<p>She shakes her head and focuses her thoughts. <em>One problem at a time, Swan.</em></p>
<p>She spends the last of the daylight gathering fruits and nuts and some mushrooms before she finds a suitable a suitable place to watch the stars. She rests her head on a fallen tree and starts to nibble on some nuts, her eyes cast upward on a clear, night sky, with only the stars and the moon to accompany her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“She’s not coming, Ms. Swan.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No. I—what did you do to her?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Me? Nothing. I merely impressed upon her the importance of keeping to her studies.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But…she said she’ll be here.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ms. Swan, do not delude yourself into thinking that you are more important to her than her studies.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But I’m her friend.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma heard a cold, mirthless laugh and it made her shudder. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“My daughter has no need for friends.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But…I need her. She’s my friend.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“My daughter is destined for greatness. And you will only be in the way. What can you even do? You cannot read or write or count. Neither can you protect yourself. The likes of you should not even dare look at my daughter.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I can read!” Emma insisted, which was a bit of a lie. Regina had been teaching her how to read and while she was an excellent teacher, the fact that they could only meet once or twice a month hardly helped. She could, technically, read…very slowly. She was also able to at least write and spell out her own name. Numbers though, she still struggled with greatly.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She is never coming here again, Ms. Swan. I suggest you don’t waste your time.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll wait for her. I know she will come.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She never did.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma wakes up with a sharp inhale as she hears hooves approaching from a distance. She hears whistles and yells and hounds barking. Somewhere, she can hear a loud grunting and hurried breathing.</p>
<p>She quickly determines the direction the hunting party is coming from and where their game is heading towards. She’s not in their way but pretty damn close. Not willing to risk it, she puts some distance between her and the hunting party, but still close enough to observe them.</p>
<p>Her eyes turn to the only one on horseback, a woman with dark eyes, thick, long, wavy, raven hair, wearing a leather jacket with mid-length sleeves, on top of long sleeved, cotton shirt, skinny trousers, thigh high leather boots with metal straps on the sides, and leather riding gloves. Her entire ensemble is in black, save for the cotton shirt which is white.</p>
<p>Emma watches in quiet fascination as the woman, a sorceress from the looks of it, holds up her hand, a fireball on her palm and a dark glint in her eyes. She hurls the ball towards the running buck and hits it. The fireball seemingly dissolves into the buck and for a moment, it stands still, and then collapses.</p>
<p>There is a sort of satisfied smirk that curls the woman’s lips and Emma’s heart clenches.</p>
<p>She would know that smug grin anywhere.</p>
<p>She knows the little scar that sits just above it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She watches as the woman steers her horse around, a beast just as dark as her clothing, and looks around, searching for something.</p>
<p>Emma hears her say something in a tongue unfamiliar to her and the rest of her hunting party moves on, the buck tied securely to a couple of poles.</p>
<p>For a while, the woman brings up the rear of the party, her horse strutting along slowly, and Emma is keenly aware that the woman is casting glances around. After some time, the woman says something again and she stops. The hunting party leaves her behind.</p>
<p>“You’ve done well keeping your presence hidden from my guards,” the woman says. Emma is sure the woman doesn’t know where she’s hiding, judging by the way she’s still casting glances around. “You are trespassing for which the penalty is death, but perhaps I’ll let you join my guard instead.”</p>
<p>Emma doesn’t say anything, but she continues to observe the woman. She is almost certain her hunch is right but still, her instincts keep her in the shadows.</p>
<p>The woman veers her horse left and right, keeping it steady as she looks around. After a few minutes, she finally says, “Very well, so be it. The hunt for you is on. You will find that my guards are tireless, and they will not cease to scour every inch of this island until you are found.”</p>
<p>Throwing caution to the wind, Emma steps out of her hiding spot and stands directly in front of the woman.</p>
<p>“Regina?”</p>
<p>Emma sees the woman look at her from head to toe. “You’re a witcher.”</p>
<p>“Yes, and you’re Regina. <em>My</em> Regina.”</p>
<p>The woman scoffs. “<em>Your</em> Regina? I do not belong to anyone.”</p>
<p>“But you are Regina, right?” Emma insists.</p>
<p>“I haven’t heard that name for a long time,” the woman answers, a small smile playing on her lips.</p>
<p>“What about Emma Swan?”</p>
<p>The smile disappears and is replaced by something that Emma can only describe as anguish. It mars the woman’s perfect face and twists it into something haunting.</p>
<p>“What would you know about Emma Swan?” she asks, her voice barely concealing the anger in them. Emma’s senses are on high alert as she feels a surge of magical energy around the woman. The horse, Emma observes, seems entirely unaffected by it.</p>
<p>“Don’t you recognize me? I’m Emma.”</p>
<p>The woman sneers. “<em>My</em> Emma can never be a witcher. <em>My</em> Emma is kind and would not even think about hurting a fly.”</p>
<p>“But it’s really—” Emma is cut off by a sudden wave of energy from Regina. This time, the horse rears back, whinnying. Emma has to dodge to avoid its front hooves from crushing her.</p>
<p>“And most importantly,” Regina says as soon as her horse’s hooves come down, “<em>My</em> Emma is long dead. I killed her.”</p>
<p>Emma’s focus is entirely on Regina that it is a fraction of a second too late before she senses a shadow behind her. Stars explode in her vision as something strikes her from behind and once again, her consciousness fades to black.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Father, what’s better than a knight?” Emma asked. They were a couple of days away from Einar, having just sold all their wares. The seas were calm and the midday sun warmed Emma’s face. She remembered Regina’s hands when they touched the small of her back. That felt warmer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, I’m not sure what you mean. Are you talking about kings or emperors?” David, her adoptive father, asked. He was a tall man, with kind blue eyes and dirty blond hair. His face was tanned and weary from watching sheep and goat all day. But he always had a ready smile for anyone, especially for Emma and his wife, Mary Margaret.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They took Emma in when all she knew was her name. She had no memory of her parents and why she was orphaned. But it did not matter because the Nolans took her in and cared for her like their own daughter.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No, not like that. I mean fighting wise. Are there better protectors than knights?” Emma turned to see her father watching her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>David hummed in thought. “I suppose there are those trained mercenaries. They are probably just as good, sometimes better, but they always fight for money.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No, not good enough. Anything else?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There was a pause as her father looked to the horizon. He was quiet for a few seconds. “Well, there are what people call witchers. We’ve never had them in Einar, but they travel the Continent doing odd jobs and slaying monsters. They are frightfully powerful and live for a very, very long time.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This caught Emma’s attention and she sat up. “Tell me more about these witchers.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>David narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “What is with the sudden fascination for these things?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma, despite the slight tan from the sun, blushed. “I just thought… I am not smart enough. I do not know how to read or write and my numbers get all mixed up, but I am sturdy and do not get sick too much and I help you chase out wolves sometimes. So, maybe I can do that. Maybe I can protect people that I love.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And what does my daughter know about love when she can hardly fry an egg without burning it?” David smiled at his daughter, ruffling her hair.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I am almost ten, Father,” Emma said, squirming but ultimately giving up as his father held her fast against him. “I will learn to read and write and count more than the number of sheep we have. But I will also learn to provide for and protect my family.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>David nodded. “Almost ten…” he said, his tone pensive. “Do me a favor, Emma?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Anything, father,” Emma responded.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t grow up too fast. I would like to keep you for a while longer.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma didn’t understand the smile her father had. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But it would be the last memory she ever had of him.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Hi,” Emma said, softly.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The girl was sleeping, an open book resting on her stomach. She couldn’t be sure how long the girl had been there but there was no sign of candles or stored food anywhere. The girl opened her eyes and immediately sat up. For a second, Emma worried she might ruin the already precarious bed. And she had just managed to fix one of its legs. ‘Fixed’ being a subjective term, of course.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma didn’t mean to startle the girl, but this was her secret spot.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who are you?” the girl asked. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma remembered the time she and her father found a wounded black cat. Its eyes were wild and wary and though it was clearly in pain and going nowhere, it made sure to let Emma learn an important lesson on consent and boundaries and why cornered animals are the most dangerous of all. Emma went home that day nursing a nasty wound on her arm, her father laughing at her all the way to the healer.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her mother didn’t look too pleased at either of them.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma thought the girl looked like that cat.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m sorry I startled you. I’m usually the only one here.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I—is this your home?” the girl asked, first looking at Emma, then everywhere else.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No,” Emma answered with a wry laugh. “I found this place a few years back and whenever my chores are done or there’s nothing to do, I come here.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma watched in quiet fascination as the girl’s brows furrowed and her lips curled into a frown. “But aren’t you supposed to have lessons?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma blushed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, the village teacher told my parents that my intellect is too far gone for any sort of instruction. That I was possessed of unnatural energy and that I should immediately be instructed in crafts or hard labor instead.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t believe that.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No—no, it’s true, unfortunately. Even my mother cannot keep me still.” And when the other girl narrowed her eyes, Emma felt compelled to explain further. “She tried, you know? To instruct me in letters and numbers at home. But my hands and legs are smarter than my brain, I think. Besides, I don’t really think it matters. I don’t need letters and numbers to farm and care for livestock. Only the highborns care for those things, and I am not one, nor do I want to be one.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She sat at the only available stool and produced the fruits she stored in her pocket, laying them out on the low table, between her and the bed. “I have some fruits, if you don’t mind sharing.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You don’t dream of becoming a princess? Or a lady in court?” the girl asked, ignoring the offered fruits. All the previous apprehensions were replaced by what Emma could only describe as curiosity.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma shook her head, confused. “Why would I want to be one? The dresses alone look stifling. I’m good out here in the forest and the fields, like my father and my mother.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A moment’s pause fell upon them. Emma begun picking out some of the berries, wiping them clean on her tattered shirt. She could sense the other girl staring at her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Ah, I’m Emma, by the way,” she wiped her hand on her skirt and held it out to the other girl. “Swan. Uhmm. My name is Emma Swan.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The girl looked at the hand, then at Emma, before cautiously taking it. Her hand was warm and soft, uncalloused. Emma liked the feel of her hand.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Regina Mills,” the girl said.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She smiled at Emma.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>The woman pacing in front of her is not smiling. Leering, maybe. But it’s definitely not Regina’s smile. Regina’s smile is warm and makes Emma feel a million times lighter. This one does not. It doesn’t make her feel anything at all.</p>
<p>She has been awake for hours, her arms, raised above her, shackled to the ceiling, her feet, hovering a few inches above the ground, are chained to the floor.  Her shoulders and wrist are bearing her weight and she is beginning to feel the strain. She had tried to cast her senses to as far as she could, but she can only sense stone walls and steel bars. She can smell moss, maybe a few rats, and stale air.</p>
<p>She can’t tell the time but where she is, is almost completely shrouded in darkness, but for the faint light of a torch somewhere behind her, casting dancing shadows in front of her.</p>
<p>She is in the middle of a wide, circular stone room with no windows. She can smell whiffs of blood and filth, hastily cleaned with water, perhaps, but nothing more. It is faint, as if the room hasn’t been used for an exceedingly long time, but the smell is there, like a tell-tale mark.</p>
<p>When Regina entered the room moments earlier, she was flanked by two guards carrying torches. The shadows play on her face and for a moment, Regina almost looks like her mother. But with a wave of her hand, the whole room lights up with tiny, floating, fireballs. Another wave of her hand and she mutters something strange in another tongue. The guards bow to her and file out. Emma hears the slamming of a heavy, steel door.</p>
<p>“I have to say, I’ve never met a witcher,” Regina says, her voice like velvet, as she walks around Emma. Her pace is leisurely but consistent and for some time, she is out of Emma’s vision.</p>
<p>“Well, don’t let my ineptitude fool you, we’re not generally in the business of getting caught and hanging from ceilings,” Emma says. Although if she thinks about it, it is rather embarrassing the amount of times she had been caught and bound within the last two days.</p>
<p>“Is that so?” Regina asks as she walks back within Emma’s line of sight.</p>
<p>Emma nods. “Mhm.”</p>
<p>“And are you in the business of pretending to be someone who is long dead?” Regina once again walks past Emma’s vision.</p>
<p>Emma waits until Regina has circled back before she answers. “Not really, no.”</p>
<p>Regina stops, her dark eyes peer into Emma’s and she could feel waves of magic coming from the other woman, whispers of it trying to enter her mind.</p>
<p>Emma blocks it easily enough.</p>
<p>“Impressive,” Regina mutters.</p>
<p>“Not that impressive. Witchers are nearly immune to magic,” Emma says, shrugging. Or at least she tries to, the sharp pain on her shoulders reminding her of her predicament. She sees Regina note this, however.</p>
<p>“<em>Nearly.</em> But you are not nearly immune to pain.” The way Regina mentions pain… Emma feels something cold crawl up and down her spine. She can’t tell if she likes it.</p>
<p>Emma scoffs. “You try hanging from the ceiling and see if your shoulders and wrists do not at least complain.”</p>
<p>She hears Regina hum. “I wonder how much longer you can last though, before you start begging for relief.”</p>
<p>“Boredom will kill me first. Or have you forgotten? My inability to keep still was why the village teacher recommended me for crafts and labor instead of letters and numbers, remember? But you said, I wasn’t a lost cause. And you taught me how to read, albeit slowly, and write my name, at least.”</p>
<p>Emma sees recognition flash through Regina’s face for a moment but it disappears just as quickly. “And you know this because you are <em>my</em> Emma?”</p>
<p>“Yes. And I have to tell you, I am glad you managed to sit me down and teach me the basics of reading and writing, because witcher training is not all fighting and running and jumping as I thought it would be. I spent just as much time poring over tomes and books about monsters and histories. I think you would have loved it at Kaer Morhen. The air is fresh, although a bit chilly and—”</p>
<p>“Enough!” Regina cuts her off and for a moment, a surge of magic washes over the entire room, the tiny floating fireballs roar and grow about ten times larger. It quickly reverts back, however, as Regina settles. “You will rot in here, with no food or water until you decide to tell me who sent you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s easy.” Emma sees Regina raise a brow. “I did. This is the first and oldest contract I have. It took me quite some time to get to it because I had to actually be a witcher first, then take on other jobs along the way to earn a bit of coin to fund my journey back to Einar.”</p>
<p>Regina’s lips curl into a sneer and Emma’s heart clenches. The little scar above her lip is prominent whenever she does this and something inside Emma wants to reach out and run her thumb gently across it.</p>
<p>“Let me know once you decide to tell the truth…”</p>
<p>Emma sees Regina walk past her, but before she completely vanishes from Emma’s line of sight, Emma quietly says, “Do it again.”</p>
<p>This effectively stops Regina in her tracks. “What?”</p>
<p>“That mind-reading magic that you were doing. Do it again. I’ll let you in. Only—” Emma hesitates. She thinks about Ruby and the other villagers. If she completely opens her mind, they might get in trouble.</p>
<p>But it’s a risk she must take. Regina deserves to know Emma’s truth, at least. As always, she’ll deal with the consequences later.</p>
<p>“—promise me that once you have delved into my mind, once you’ve seen my truth, you will tell me yours. We will sit down for a meal, like we used to when we were children, but this time, you will tell me your story.”</p>
<p>Regina stares at her but says nothing, her face a shroud of emotions, her eyes searching.</p>
<p>“And you know, you cannot lie to me. I’ve always been able to tell when you’re lying. You called it the lamest power in existence,” Emma adds.</p>
<p>“How will I know that you did not tamper with your memories or show me only what you want me to see?”</p>
<p>“You will know. You’ve probably done this a thousand times. And I do not possess the magic to alter memories, much less mine.”</p>
<p>She sees Regina’s eyes focus on her. Once again, she feels Regina’s magic coaxing her, whispers of it gently lulling her. Emma shuts it down.</p>
<p>“Give me your word, Regina,” Emma insists.</p>
<p>“Promises mean nothing to me. Tell me I’m lying if you really are <em>my</em> Emma,” Regina says, sneering once again.</p>
<p>“That maybe so but promises mean everything to me. It is why I’m here, after all.”</p>
<p>Regina laughs, cold and dreary. “Fine then. You have my word. After I have performed this spell and have found that you are not lying, we will go to supper and I will tell you my story.”</p>
<p>Emma weighs the other woman’s word. “You’re lying. But I hope you won’t be after this.”</p>
<p>Regina’s smile disappears as she once again trains her gaze on Emma. Emma’s stomach tightens as she smells Regina’s familiar apple scent. This time, however, Emma relaxes her mind as she lets Regina in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The memories are backwards and only come in glimpses and flashes. They also come with the emotions attached with the memories. She suspects that Regina sees what she’s seeing but she’s not sure if Regina feels them too.</p>
<p>She can feel Regina’s presence as she watches her life unfurl before her in reverse.</p>
<p>She sees herself standing on the spell-protected lodge. And then she is outside her burnt home. And then she is at Ruby’s, greedily devouring the bland, tasteless gruel. She is fighting the ghouls. And now she’s lost in the forest.</p>
<p>She watches as the storm catches her unawares and her little catboat is swallowed by the waves.</p>
<p>She sees glimpses of her time drifting at sea, feels the excitement of finally getting home.</p>
<p>She sees all the jobs she’s taken, all the monsters she’s had to kill, and ghosts she’s put to rest. All the close calls and the scrapes and bruises. She sees all the time she’s had to camp outside and sleep under the stars. All the women she’s slept with, now noting that all of them have raven hair, dark eyes and sharp features.</p>
<p>She is at Kaer Morhen, running drills, repeatedly. She is falling asleep memorizing names and pictures of monsters.</p>
<p>And then she feels the unspeakable pain of the Trial of the Grasses, but it is gone too soon and now she’s lonely, starved, and half dead as she crawls through the gates of Kaer Morhen.</p>
<p>She is once again camped out, under the stars, noting the mushrooms she shouldn’t eat. She is lost and can barely read the signs but there are still good people willing to help. She hears all the lies she’s had to tell from town to town, all the back roads she’s had to take to avoid being seen by adults and be sent back to Einar…or worse.</p>
<p>And then she’s back in Fyresdal, making a deal with an old man, begging him to shelter her little catboat. She is handing him all the coins she has been saving. They were supposed to buy fine cutlery.</p>
<p>She is alone at sea, a tiny, determined child.</p>
<p>She is packing her bags and stealing away in the middle of the night, unable to say goodbye to her parents. They will stop her, and she must not be stopped.</p>
<p>She is back at the hunter’s lodge and here she senses Regina’s magic surge once more. The glimpses stop and instead she sees the entire thing happen in real time, like an invisible sentinel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll wait for her. I know she will come,” Emma insisted.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The older woman, Cora Mills was tall. Her bearing was proud, and she looked at everything around her with a mild expression of disdain.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cora shook her head. “She is leaving. And where she’s going, you are not worthy of following.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma stared at the older woman. “Well, then I will be. I will study twice as hard and sit still this time. And then when I am worthy, I will find her. I will even learn to fight so I can protect her.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This caught Cora’s attention and she raised a brow. “And what makes you think my daughter needs protecting?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“She’s my friend. Friends protect each other.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cora’s laughter was mirthless and scornful. “She doesn’t need friends.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Everybody needs a friend. My mother says so. And my father says my mother is always right.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma found that the longer she was in the presence of the other woman, the more she hated her. No wonder Regina liked running away so much. Emma couldn’t imagine living with someone so… hateful.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Consider this your final warning, Ms. Swan. My daughter is not coming back. Do not look for her.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma watched as the older woman turned around and walked away.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will become a witcher.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This, apparently, was the right thing to say as Cora stopped dead in her tracks, just past the lodge’s door.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“A witcher?” And what do you know about witchers?” she asked, turning around with an unusual smile on her face. It made the hair at the back of Emma’s neck stand and she felt cold all over. Still, she had already committed to her word.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Enough,” Emma responded.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cora scoffed. “Liar. You don’t even know how to become one… but I do.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma hurried over to Cora and stopped just short of running into her. “Tell me… please.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I really shouldn’t. Only very few survive becoming a witcher. Only the strong and you are not strong, Ms. Swan.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will be. Now, please, tell me.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hmmm. I fear it might be too late. You are almost too old to start their… training.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But—so, if I leave now, I might just make it, yes?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma watched Cora appraise her, stalk slowly around her, like a predator: patient and cunning. “Barely, but yes.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma clenched her fist. “So, tell me where to go.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Far. Very far. You must seek the castle called Kaer Morhen, deep in the mountains of Kaedwen, just off Gwenllech river. There is only one trail to reach it and it is easy to miss unless you know where you’re going. And even if you find it, it is just as easy to lose it. Getting lost in the mountains of Kaedwen is not something you wish to do.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma hesitated. “Kaer Morhen. Mountains of Kaedwen. Off Gwenllech river. Do not get lost,” she repeated.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Perfect,” Cora purred.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“And—and when I become a witcher, I will be worthy to follow Regina, yes?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Cora smiled. “You will become powerful. I imagine there will be very little in this world that you will not be worthy of.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t want the world. I want my friend. I want Regina,” Emma insisted.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Then you know what to do…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Emma feels something being pulled off her, something powerful and angry. And when she blinks, she sees Regina pacing, chewing her bottom lip. When they were children, Emma found it adorable whenever Regina was like this. She would be deep in thought, muttering to herself until she stopped and that’s when Emma knew that Regina had figured out whatever it was that was puzzling her.</p>
<p>But now, Emma doesn’t just find it cute. She finds that her thoughts about it are not quite so… <em>innocent.</em> She shakes her head to try and center her thoughts.</p>
<p>Even with her witcher senses, Emma could not quite understand what Regina is muttering to herself. She is glancing around, fidgeting with her fingers, until finally, she stops.</p>
<p>She stares at Emma and for a moment Emma thinks Regina’s about to cry.</p>
<p>But suddenly, Regina’s face contorts into fury and something else that Emma couldn’t place. The floating fireballs once again grow and glow brighter as she screams “Liar!”</p>
<p>“Regina?” Emma furrows her brows.</p>
<p>She looks past Emma and calls on the guards stationed outside the circular cell.</p>
<p>“Regina, what—” But before she can finish her question, Regina cuts her off with an order to the guards.</p>
<p>“One hundred lashes. No food or water,” Regina orders. “Wake me once it’s done.”</p>
<p>Emma’s blood runs cold. Witchers may be built to withstand more than what normal humans can withstand, but even they have their limits. And Regina is asking her to be put to her limits.</p>
<p>Her thoughts turn to Storybrooke and the villagers and Emma panics.</p>
<p>“Regina!” she cries out, “Regina, please! Don’t do this! Regina, you promised!” But Emma knows her fate is sealed the moment she hears the slamming of a steel door from somewhere just out of her line of vision.</p>
<p>The fireballs disappear and the only light now comes from torches behind her. She can feel their heat, see a distorted shadow of herself cast onto the wall directly in front of her.</p>
<p>Without any preamble, she feels the sting of the whip as it lands on her back, immediately followed by another, and then another…</p>
<p>On and on it went, the pain increasing as each new lash cuts deeper and deeper onto Emma’s back, sometimes extending to her sides. Emma has stopped counting past fifty. Her shirt had long been torn from her body. Half-naked, in terrible pain, and her trousers wet with blood, she has lost all concept of time. She doesn’t even notice anymore when the guards would change, taking turns to rest. The lashes continue, relentless.</p>
<p>At one point, she lost her voice, screaming herself hoarse as lash after lash rains upon her back.</p>
<p>And then, after an eternity, Emma finally succumbs to the pain.</p>
<p>But even after all that, her last thoughts before once again fading out is how the pain she is suffering now will never compare to the pain of her heart being broken by the one person she entrusted it to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you a princess?” Emma asked.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma’s eyes were narrowed in concentration, her tongue slightly sticking out to the side. She was midway through the tenth time she was slowly spelling out her name on a parchment Regina brought when she raised her head to ask. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Regina, on the bed, her back on the headboard and her knees raised so her book was resting on her thighs, glanced at Emma, frowned, then returned to reading.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It was a rare mid-morning when both of them were at the lodge. Regina explained that her mother was not going to be back for a couple of days so she was able to leave earlier and could go home much later than she used to. She had, however, left Regina with an exorbitant amount of reading and writing to do which explained the books Regina had brought with her, all of them thick, old, and with strange looking symbols that Emma didn’t recognize as part of the letters Regina had been teaching her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I am not,” Regina answered. “Why do you ask?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma, still focused on the parchment before her, shrugged. “The book you gave me to read, it had descriptions of princesses. I thought of you while reading them.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Regina didn’t answer and Emma turned to look at her. She seemed intent on what she was reading so Emma went back to her task. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>After a few moments, Emma added, “If you are a princess, can I be your knight?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This, finally, got Regina’s full attention and Emma heard the shutting of a thick book. “You want to be a knight but not a princess?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma turned to Regina and nodded. “They protect princesses and help people and travel the land. Seems much less boring than being a princess in a castle.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, I don’t have a castle and I am not a princess,” Regina answered.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You should be one so I can be your knight and then I will protect you.” Emma turned back to her practice writing.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Why are we having this conversation?” Regina asked, and Emma could tell, even without looking, that Regina was staring at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma put her quill back into the ink glass and fully turned to Regina.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Before I left with father to go to the main land, you mentioned that you had moved to Einar because your mother wanted to protect you, that there were people looking for you and wished you harm,” Emma started. She saw Regina nod slowly.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“So then, on our way back, I was reading the book you gave me, and then, I thought, well what if they find you? Who will protect you? You don’t have any friends, just me, which means I must protect you. And knights protect princesses, and you seemed like a princess. It only makes sense,” Emma said, shrugging before turning back to her work. After a pause, she heard Regina laughing. Emma frowned at Regina, but the other girl paid her no mind.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When she was finally rid of her laughing fit, she took a deep breath. “Your ability to say the sweetest and most foolish things in the same breath truly astounds me,” Regina said, wiping tears from her eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well, I know I’m not smart, but you really don’t need to be smart to know you have to protect the ones you love. Mother says so, and she is very wise.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Love? And what do you know about love, Emma Swan?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma, again, shrugged. “Mother says that when you love someone you will always want the best for them, want to keep them safe all the time, and want them around you in your life. She also says that loving someone means that you keep them in your thoughts always and whisper a prayer for them whenever you can. I already do and want all those things for you so I know I love you and therefore I will protect you.” She wasn’t really paying any attention to most of what she was saying as she was more concerned about getting her letter strokes correctly. Regina was a kind but strict teacher, after all.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She heard Regina sigh which made her turn around again.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No, just—Don’t ever lose your kind heart, Emma. Promise me you’ll take good care of it. The world could certainly use more of those.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma hummed. “Well, you can have it if you want. I trust you with it. You’re good at taking care of things.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Memories Pt.2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma wakes up to the sound of a crackling, spitting fire. She tries to move but the sudden rush of pain keeps her down. She is lying prone on a straw bed, her face tilted to the side.</p>
<p>One quick glance of her surroundings, however, and her heart skips, and then begins hammering on her chest.</p>
<p>She sees the broken window, the hole in the roof, the appalling excuse for a repair on the door, the small, low table and the only other chair, a stool—to be more precise—in the lodge. The door is open, and Emma can see the faint shimmering of the spell cast around the lodge. It is still active.</p>
<p>With immense effort, gritting her teeth and clenching her jaw, she pushes herself up, every inch of her back begging her not to. But Emma has always been stubborn and eventually she is able to sit up.</p>
<p>She looks down and sees that she’s wearing a clean shirt and a pair of trousers. Her torso is completely wrapped in bandages. Resting just at the foot of the bed are her swords noticeably free from ghoul gunk and, if possible, cleaner than she last remembers it ever being clean.</p>
<p>She tries to stand but apparently her body will only let her do so much and she sits back down with a groan and a sigh. On the low table, she sees something covered in cloth.</p>
<p>Gingerly, and with much groaning and grunting, she leans over and removes the cloth to find a plate containing a few loaves of bread, some cheese, slices of bacon and apples. There’s a round wine bottle with two wooden cups to its right. Beside the plate is a glass vial with a swirling green liquid inside, a folded paper tucked under it. She picks the paper up and unfolds it, seeing familiar tight, cursive writing.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know you don’t trust me right now, but I also know you well enough to foresee that you will try and stand and move about. Please don’t. This will aggravate your wounds. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I have left you some food and wine and a vial of a potion I’ve calibrated to hopefully work with witchers. It should put you right back to sleep and help you heal further, but you must let it, the way you let me enter your mind.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I had to go and make some more preparations, but I should be back in a few hours. I’m leaving this note in case you wake up and I’m not there.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But if you decide not to follow any of my instructions, as you always have, please, at least, make sure you DO NOT LEAVE THE LODGE. It is of the utmost importance that you stay there otherwise, it breaks the protective spell around the lodge.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Regina Mills</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma folds the note and tosses it into the fire.</p>
<p>She sniffs at the bread and cheese and bacon, then starts tearing into it greedily. She has been starving over the last few days and this is the first proper meal she’s had. In a matter of minutes, the food and wine are all gone, except for the apples. Out of the six apples, Emma only had space for five.</p>
<p>Finally, she gingerly picks up the glass vial, removes the cork, and tentatively puts it under her nose. It smells like mint and apples with a hint of some other herb. Emma also notices that the vial is warm, like sunshine.</p>
<p>She closes her eyes and drinks from it.</p>
<p>It couldn’t hurt more, after all.</p>
<p>Immediately, she feels lighter, warmer and the promise of rest spreads through every inch of her. She makes the mistake of lying on her back and the sharp pain forces her to turn over and lie prone. With a deep exhale, she opens her mind and immediately falls into a dreamless sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Emma wakes up again, light is streaming from the windows and the hole in the roof.</p>
<p>The lodge is still empty but Emma notices that the table has been cleared out and there’s a stack of firewood that wasn’t there the night before beside the still burning fireplace. Her swords are also no longer by the foot of the bed, but are now leaning by the headboard, much closer and easier for Emma to grab in case anything happens.</p>
<p>More importantly, judging from the amount of straw tickling her stomach and chest, she knows she’s not wearing a shirt and her bandages are also gone. While this is not the first time Emma has woken up without a shirt, she usually has the warmth of another woman in her arms to make up for it. But now, she’s shirtless and cold and it just isn’t right.</p>
<p>She immediately pushes herself to sit up, finding that while her wounds don’t hurt as much as they did before she fell asleep, it is still incredibly painful. She groans loudly, muttering curses and looking around for her shirt.</p>
<p>Before she can worry further about being shirtless, however, a swirling purple mist suddenly appears a few feet in front of her and Regina steps out of it, wearing a simple, black dress, cinched at the waist, her hair tied back. Her countenance is worlds apart from the last time Emma saw her. Today, she seems softer, just as beautiful but with none of the harsh shadows seemingly plaguing her. Her head is down, reading a leather-bound book that she supports with one arm, while her other hand is carrying a heavy looking basket. It tinkles lightly as Regina walks forward.</p>
<p>She is once again muttering to herself, biting her lips, brows furrowed in concentration and despite herself, Emma finds it cute.</p>
<p>The swirling mist behind her disappears and she pauses, still reading, her other hand still holding the basket until Emma clears her throat. Regina’s head snaps up, stares at Emma for one second and glances away. She hurriedly deposits her book in one of the nearby shelves and the basket at the table.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you’re awake,” Regina says, quietly. She waves a hand, and a smaller, more compact version of the swirling purple cloud appears just above Emma and a crisp, clean shirt drops out of it. With much grunting and groaning, and after begrudgingly accepting help from Regina, Emma puts the shirt on. It smells like apples, like Regina.</p>
<p>Regina then busies herself with gathering things from cupboards and shelves. Emma, now that it is much brighter, notices that every inch of the lodge is immaculately clean. It is just as dilapidated as she remembers it, but there are no cobwebs, hardly any dust, and none of the old, musty smell abandoned places seem to possess.</p>
<p>It’s as if it was preserved to exactly how it was while also being kept clean. She wonders if it’s the effect of the spell cast around the lodge.</p>
<p>She turns her attention back to Regina who is now laying out a spread before her. Loaves of bread, meats, fruits, and a couple of bottles of wine.</p>
<p>Perhaps seeing Emma’s expression, Regina says, “I—uhmm—I’ve been reading more into witchers. Based on your memory, you haven’t been eating well for the past few days, which might explain why you’re not healing as fast as you should be. So, I’ve brought as much food as I can and—”</p>
<p>“How about an apology and an explanation first?” Emma says, cutting her off. The pain on her back not letting her forget. She knows she should be angry at Regina but right now, all she is is confused.</p>
<p>Regina, her voice small and uncertain, nods and says, “You’re right. I’m sorry I left you to suffer. But, please, allow me to tell my story while you eat.” Regina pushes the whole table closer to Emma. She gets two wooden cups and pours wine on both, giving one to Emma and taking the other for herself. Emma watches as Regina takes a sip before breathing deeply.</p>
<p>“Do you remember the day you arrived at the lodge with a terrible stomachache? You said you were picking berries and mushrooms earlier and showed me the ones you ate,” Regina starts. She isn’t looking at Emma, but at somewhere past Emma.</p>
<p>Emma nods as she begins picking apart a turkey leg.</p>
<p>“I had just learned healing by touch earlier that week and mother caught me practicing. She warned me never again to practice it and that I should stick to the spells she has listed for me. But still, I practiced in secret. I just thought, you were always coming to the lodge with wounds and scrapes and a healing spell would be something useful to have. I just needed to do it without you noticing.”</p>
<p>“So, you’ve always been an enchantress?” Emma asked.</p>
<p>“Yes. But we are not like most enchantresses. Normally, those touched by magic are barren, but that rule does not apply to us. We are possessed by unnaturally long life and while it is a rare occurrence, reproduction is possible for my kind. It’s just exceedingly rare.”</p>
<p>“Your mother is very old then?”</p>
<p>“Yes, possibly older than some of the kingdoms in the Continent.”</p>
<p>Emma hums, partly because the pie she has just started eating is divine, and partly because she doesn’t know how to ask what she wants to ask. She asks it anyway.</p>
<p>“Is this why you don’t celebrate birthdays?”</p>
<p>Regina scoffs. “Not exactly. It’s just never been something our family did. Those books I read, the ones with the weird symbols? Those are annals written by my ancestors. Our family literally had to learn magic as we went along, seeing as our powers are unlike other enchantresses and is derived from our line only. And those annals never have ages or dates of birth. Just dates of death.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”</p>
<p>Regina hesitates and takes another sip of her wine. “I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that the world is evolving. Humans are waking up and taking the world for themselves. Most of the magical and fantastical are being imprisoned or worse. And while creatures of the night still roam the world, they are slowly disappearing, too. One day, we will wake up and find that this is no longer our world.</p>
<p>“Mother said that it had already started where we used to live. Magic was banned and those suspected of possessing powers were hunted. When I was a child, apparently, I used my power out in the open and suddenly, we were being hunted. She moved us to Einar and forbade the use of power outside our home. She kept us isolated and created homunculi to guard and serve us.”</p>
<p>Emma frowns. She’s heard of them vaguely, but nothing ever solid is written about them. And Regina has a full company of them.</p>
<p>“So, those guards?”</p>
<p>“Homunculi created by my mother. They are loyal to her and report everything they’ve seen or done. I can order them to a certain degree, but their loyalties lie solely on my mother.”</p>
<p>“That still doesn’t explain why you—”</p>
<p>“I’m getting to it,” Regina cuts her off and Emma can see the trembling in Regina’s hands. She takes another sip of her wine.</p>
<p>“I was right to learn the healing magic, of course. You came stumbling into the lodge, bent in half, clutching at your stomach with a poisonous mushroom in your pocket. I tried to convince you to go to the village healer, but you were too stubborn. But more than that, I knew it was too late. I hadn’t learned how to teleport and it would take too long to half-carry you to Storybrooke. So, I made you lie on my lap, cast a sleeping spell on you to calm you down and let your body rest for a few hours. Once you were asleep, I then performed the healing spell. I thought it had worked. Your pallor had disappeared, and you stopped squirming in your sleep. I would have liked to wait but it was getting too late and I needed to go home. So, I left you some food and a note.”</p>
<p>“It did work,” Emma says. “I remember waking up feeling like I just had the best nap of my life.”</p>
<p>“I couldn’t be sure,” Regina replies. “And you were leaving for the Continent with your father so I knew it would be another month till I see you next. I tried to not worry too much about it. I was confident that I performed the spell correctly.”</p>
<p>Here Regina pauses and refills her and Emma’s cups. She takes a sip before continuing.</p>
<p>“The night before we were supposed to meet again, mother had caught me packing a few things. She demanded to know where I was going. I shouldn’t have lied to her. I should have just told her that I was meeting a child from the village. But I was foolish. I told her instead that I was thinking of taking a picnic in the forest, by myself. This, of course, made my mother suspicious and she delved into my mind. I was powerless, too inexperienced to stop her. She learned everything, of course. For a moment, I thought she would be mad that I had used my power, and in front of someone else too. But she simply told me that I was grounded and left my room. She didn’t seem angry.</p>
<p>“I spent the night thinking of ways to let you know that I’m not coming, too worried that you would wait all day. I didn’t want to make you wait. But the next morning, mother informed me that she was leaving for a few days. She sternly reminded me that I am still grounded and left me with a list of chores and practice lessons that by the end of the day, I passed out from exhaustion.</p>
<p>“I woke up to my mother shaking me. She looked distraught. She told me she had decided to visit Storybrooke to gather some supplies. This isn’t so odd. She sometimes stops by the village before she leaves to wherever. But she said that the whole village was in mourning and when she asked, they said that the daughter of the village leader was found dead earlier that week in a hunter’s lodge an hour’s walk away from Storybrooke. She said that in their grief, the couple decided to kill themselves and burn their house.”</p>
<p>Emma’s grip on her plate loosens, and it slips, crashing on the floor. They both ignore this. “Is this why you stopped on that specific memory? Do you—do you think she killed my parents?” she asked, her heart hammering.</p>
<p>“Yes, and as to your other question, also yes. I’m sorry, Emma. But after what I’ve seen her do, I wouldn’t put it past her. For the longest time, she made me believe that I had killed you. That my spell didn’t work. When I learned what she did to you that day, and what she may have done to your parents, compounded by all the lies she has said afterwards, some of the puzzle pieces fell into place. But I knew that I couldn’t move without the guards watching my every step. Ever since I learned how to block my mother from reading my mind, she had grown increasingly paranoid. So… I had to find a way to get you out of there.”</p>
<p>“And you had to pretend that I wasn’t cooperating,” Emma supplies “You had to sell my stubbornness. You knew she will eventually find out that I had returned. But you had to pretend that you didn’t believe me. Why?”</p>
<p>Regina stands and looks at Emma in the eyes. “Look around you, Emma. Ever since you left, this island went to hell. I had no choice but to watch, powerless, as my mother put a spell on the entire island. She had completely isolated it, planted monsters that didn’t use to exist here all to keep the citizens afraid. The most I could do for the villagers, out of respect to your memory and because I knew you loved them deeply, was create a little brook outside of the village so they could at least have clean water. My power alone keeps it from being corrupted like the rest of the island has been.”</p>
<p>“So…you’re not the Evil Queen?”</p>
<p>Regina scoffs. “No, but I’m no better. I spent this entire time honing my craft, but even as powerful as I am now, I am no match against my mother and her army of soulless homunculi. But with you, here, this island may finally have a chance.”</p>
<p>“But did you really have to tear me apart first?” Emma asks, not meaning to sound so hurt.</p>
<p>Regina, however, looked at Emma with an odd mix of regret and determination. “It was the only way. I had to tear you apart, but now, I have a week to put you back together again. And hopefully, finally put an end to my mother’s tyrannical reign in Einar. You can have your island, the Enchanted Forest, and Storybrooke back and your contract will finally be fulfilled.”</p>
<p>They are both quiet for a few minutes. Regina looks deep in thought, almost as if she’s reliving something horrible in her head. Emma decides to break the heavy air.</p>
<p>“Your power, it smells like apples.”</p>
<p>Regina furrows her brows at Emma. “Really? That’s odd. My mother says it doesn’t smell like anything. Just like hers.”</p>
<p>“That’s not true. The brook smelled faintly like apples. I thought for sure I finally found something to eat so imagine my confusion when I found a brook instead. And this house smells like apple pie, this shirt, too, smells like apples. They all smell like you.”</p>
<p>Regina hums. “Maybe its because of your heightened senses? I’ve been reading more about witchers while you were passed out. I had to calibrate my potion to accommodate for your <em>enhancements</em>.”</p>
<p>“Well, I can already tell they’re working,” Emma says, flexing her arm and then wincing when she tries to stand.</p>
<p>Regina tsks but is at Emma’s side in an instant. “Not fast enough. I need to adjust it some more and I’m afraid we won’t have enough time.”</p>
<p>“You said we have one week? How sure are you?”</p>
<p>“Quite certain. My mother always leaves for a couple of weeks at a time. I’m never sure where she goes but when she returns, she always looks tired, drained. She takes a few weeks of rest after that before she leaves again. So, it’s best we do what we need to do while she’s weak.”</p>
<p>Regina looks away and returns to the small table, unpacking the rest of the things inside the basket. They were mostly glass vials with different colored liquids inside. “I need a new table,” she mutters.</p>
<p>“Can’t you summon one like you did with the shirt?”</p>
<p>“No. That shirt is small and light. I need to open a portal and push the table from the other side—and before you even think about trying to help, I already told you: Your only job this week is to recover. Let me worry about everything else.”</p>
<p>Emma is quiet as she watches Regina move about. All this time, they have both been in a journey, with Regina slowly and quietly learning more and more about her powers in secret while Emma trains to become a witcher. Regina’s had to watch her mother destroy the thing she desperately tries to protect in secret, all because she feels like she owes it to Emma to do so.</p>
<p>Suddenly, all of Emma’s anger melts away.</p>
<p>“You were right to be worried, you know?” Emma suddenly says and Regina stops to raise a brow at her. “You said you were worried I would wait all day if you didn’t come. You were right, sort of. I would have waited all day that day, and then the day after that, and the day after that. I imagine I would stay there and wait until someone inevitably comes and finds me. After which, I will steal away and wait again. I would be angry for a bit, but I think all that anger would disappear the moment you arrive with some rant about how your mother is a slavedriver.”</p>
<p>Regina doesn’t say anything for a second. “Is that how you manage to get women in bed? By saying something profoundly stupid but sweet at the same time?” Regina asks.</p>
<p>Emma hums. “Well, that and it doesn’t hurt that I’m pretty. Also, word gets around about witchers and our legendary stamina.”</p>
<p>Regina shakes her head. “I already regret having this conversation with you.”</p>
<p>Emma attempts to laugh but immediately finds that her back doesn’t like that. “Well, it doesn’t seem fair that you now know all about what’s happened with my life over the last few years, including all the women I’ve been in bed with, and I know nothing about yours.”</p>
<p>“Fair? I thought this was our dynamic. Even as children, you would tell me stories all about your adventures and I would sit there silently judging how reckless you are with your life and safety. Nothing has changed if you ask me.”</p>
<p>“Well, it should change. Because now, you don’t have to keep your powers a secret anymore. So, come on, Regina. Tell me stories. Or maybe let me read your mind so I can see it for myself too. You can do that, right?”</p>
<p>Regina looks at Emma for a second. “You don’t believe me? You think I’m lying to you, that’s why you want to see my memo—”</p>
<p>“No! Aaagh!” Emma’s sudden outburst once again not agreeing with her wounds does stop Regina but only for a moment.</p>
<p>“Then what is it with your fascination with knowing what I’ve been doing while you were gone?”</p>
<p>“I—” Emma sighs. “I’m just… I’m just wondering if, you know… you’ve… uhmm… I mean, you’re really beautiful and it’s really not that hard to imagine you being with some…other… uhmm… person.”</p>
<p>“Are you asking me if I’ve slept with anybody while you were gone?”</p>
<p>Emma can feel herself getting redder and redder by the second as she stammers. “Uhm—well, not exactly. I just…you know—”</p>
<p>“Haven’t you been listening? I spent this entire time getting stronger, enhancing my craft, while my mother thinks I’m just being her studious, responsible daughter. I have been holed up in that castle, on top of a cliff, because of course mother likes to always be on top of everything, with no one to talk to but homunculus guards in helmets or homunculus servants in veils. Even my mother only drops by to talk to me to check in on my studies before she disappears to who knows here. The only time I ever get to see people is when the homunculi bring some in for interrogation and needless punishment. I’ve had to quell rebellions because I know they would only bring more harm to themselves. I’ve had to sully my own hands and torture desperate people just so they would stop being stupid and needlessly risking their lives. I’ve had to do things… I..”</p>
<p>Emma, without a thought to the screaming pain on her back quickly stands up and gathers Regina in her arms. Regina buries her head on Emma’s shoulder as she trembles and cries. “I hurt them, Emma. I hurt these people that you love. And I keep thinking I’m just protecting them, but maybe I have been evil. Maybe I am becoming like my mother… But I don’t know how else to protect them without rousing my mother’s suspicion…”</p>
<p>They stand there, with Emma’s arm around Regina, for a few minutes. Emma doesn’t say anything. She rubs Regina’s back until Regina gently pushes Emma off.</p>
<p>“I’m okay now, I think. I just… I think I needed to let that out,” Regina says, still sniffling, wiping stray tears from her face. “But now, you should go back to bed. Do you need more food? I must go back to the castle to fetch a table and a couple of proper chairs. I’ll be back tonight after I’ve pretended to go to sleep. I will also bring some water, I suppose. I need to wash you up, clean your wounds and re-apply your bandages to avoid infection.”</p>
<p>“More food and wine would be good, I suppose. Will you be staying the night?”</p>
<p>Regina shakes her head. “I can’t risk it. But we’ll see. Oh also, I need to borrow this.” She pulls a strand of hair from Emma. “It’s for the homunculi clone I’ve made. Mine doesn’t last as long as my mother’s but it is a near perfect replica of you. It doesn’t wake up though and it won’t do so unless I command it to. But I need to make a new one soon.”</p>
<p>“You mean there’s a clone of me in your castle tied up and sleeping?”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry. It doesn’t really feel anything. And it only functions for about twenty-four hours at a time. My mother’s homunculi can last for months before she must replace them. You can see the power disparity between us.”</p>
<p>“Well, you have me now. And I promise I’ll be good and focus on getting stronger, so we can free Einar and put the Enchanted Forest back to its proper glory.” Emma says, slowly walking back to the bed. She tries her best not to groan with every step.</p>
<p>Regina nods picks up her basket and waves her hand. The swirling purple cloud appears but Emma calls to her before she steps in it.</p>
<p>“Please come back.”</p>
<p>“I will. If you’re good, maybe I’ll bring more apple pies.”</p>
<p>“You spoil me.”</p>
<p>“Not yet, but I intend to.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Calm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma spends the rest of the day alternating between meditating and eating the rest of the food Regina left for her.</p>
<p>She tries to recall what she has learned about homunculi. There’s very little known about them that they are mostly included in books in passing, like an afterthought. She remembers reading something about them being created, unable to multiply or reproduce and that the last of the people who knew how to make them is thought to have been wiped out in some obscure war more than five hundred years ago. Clearly, they were wrong.</p>
<p>She then turns her thoughts to her preparations. She considers the potions she’s going to be creating and all the ingredients she will need. After settling this, her thoughts fly off and eventually settle on Regina.</p>
<p>She finds that the more she considers things, the more she realizes that all her feelings for Regina as a child never really went away. If anything, it compounded and grew so much that Regina became like a beacon to her, guiding her home. She remembers the glimpse she had of her past, during the Trial of the Grasses, where Regina’s face was all she could focus on, her voice, the one thing she kept hearing in her head. Regina kept her sane in that maddening process. Regina kept her alive.</p>
<p>And now that she’s found Regina again, Emma is quite certain she never wants to part from her. She is even more determined now to sever Regina’s bond with her mother so she can be free to do as she wishes.</p>
<p>She still has so many questions to ask but it has been such a long day and despite doing nothing, she can tell that her body is pushing itself to the limits just trying to heal. She feels her consciousness fade into the darkness, once again, but she fights it off. She at least wants to see Regina before falling asleep.</p>
<p>Moments later, she gets her wish as the gentle scent of apple fills the lodge, followed, a second later, by a swirling purple cloud. Instead of Regina, however, she sees the end of a simple wooden table. She tries to stand but she hears Regina call out, “I swear I will hurt you worse if you so much as take a step to help me, Emma Swan.”</p>
<p>Emma scoffs. “I wouldn’t dream of helping you.”</p>
<p>The table, a dark, wooden, rectangular piece that fits perfectly on one corner of the lodge, had two chairs on top of it, and a few more baskets about as large as the one Regina brought with her earlier. From inside the purple cloud, Emma can hear Regina grunting as the table, and all the contents on top of it, is slowly pushed out.</p>
<p>Eventually, it all gets out and at the other end of the table, Emma sees two buckets of water and a basin. Beside the basin are white towels, folded neatly.</p>
<p>Regina finally walks out of the cloud and it disappears.</p>
<p>“Wow, powerful <em>and </em>strong…” Emma says with a soft whistle, grinning. She sees Regina roll her eyes and smile as she rummages around the basket. She pulls out a handful of candlesticks and some simple candelabra. With another wave of her hand, tiny fires light the tip of the candlesticks and Regina sets about strategically placing the candelabra to light up the lodge.</p>
<p>She fixes the table where she wants it, arranges the dining chair and proceeds to pull out strange contraptions and even more glass vials from another basket. From one basket, she pulls out books and arranges them neatly on a shelf. She also takes out parchments and quills and bottles of ink and again arranges them on a nearby shelf.</p>
<p>Emma watches her as she continues to empty the baskets she’s brought, taking items out and putting them on shelves and cupboards with creaky doors.</p>
<p>“All this power and you never thought to fix the lodge?” Emma asks.</p>
<p>Regina turns to look at her with a smirk and it makes Emma’s heart thrum, “I seem to recall you promising to do that.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but you also thought I was dead.”</p>
<p>“So?”</p>
<p>“Well, you protect the lodge, you keep it clean, but you never thought about maybe just waving your hand at the roof and at least fixing that?”</p>
<p>Regina looks up and smiles at the hole in the roof. “When we were children, we divided the labor so that I oversaw your education and kept the lodge clean because you were hopeless in that regard—”</p>
<p>“I still am,” Emma comments then gestures for Regina to continue.</p>
<p>“You brought food and gifts and decided to patch things up around here. With your tiny hands, you managed to somewhat fix the door and keep that window hanging on its last hinge. But you also told me stories of your adventures here and for a few hours, I was able to see another world I will never be a part of. When I thought you died, I lost all that brought me joy. I wanted to preserve your memory as best as I could, and this dilapidated little hut held all of it, broken window, stupid-looking door, and huge hole in roof. This is your heart, and you gave it to me to take care of. I wouldn’t dare change a single thing about it.”</p>
<p>Emma shakes her head and smiles at Regina. “But Regina, this isn’t my heart. I suppose you can say this is where I kept it, but I remember giving you my heart. And it’s always been yours.”</p>
<p>Regina’s laugh is wry. “So, you wouldn’t be sad if you returned to this island and found this place destroyed or haunted by some creature?”</p>
<p>“I would. Just as I was sad to see the sorry state of my village and my burned down home. But you are alive and that was all that mattered.”</p>
<p>“And Storybrooke?”</p>
<p>“Very close second. Storybrooke will always be home. And you know, one day, when all of this is over, I would very much like to rebuild my house so it could also be your home too.”</p>
<p>“Are you asking me to move in with you, Emma Swan?”</p>
<p>“That’s always been the plan, right?”</p>
<p>“No, that was <em>your</em> plan for this lodge, remember?”</p>
<p>“Oh. Yes, you’re right. I suppose this lodge does have a bit of land around it that I can work on and farm. I can also convert the basement into a wine cellar. Maybe I’ll sell the property in Storybrooke, and use the coin to rebuild this lodge, make it worthy of you and your books and your gardening and your apple tree.”</p>
<p>Regina’s smile is sad when she looks at Emma. “And what about children and marriage? You cannot raise a family with an enchantress living with you.”</p>
<p>Emma furrows her brows. “Regina… I’m a witcher. I am barren. I will never have children of my own. And a husband? As you have succinctly pointed out, I sleep with women. What gave you the idea that I would want a husband? And besides, even if I do want a husband, why would I marry anyone who would die long before I start ageing.”</p>
<p>“And what if <em>I</em> want a husband and children?”</p>
<p>Emma stops as something in her chest contracts. It’s a specific kind of pain that doesn’t physically hurt so much as it just grabs her attention and takes hold of it. Of course, Regina wants a husband. She feels stupid for never even considering it. She’s been stuck in this fantasy of getting her life back to the way it was that she’s never even considered what Regina wants.</p>
<p>“Then—then you will have a fully-functioning farm, a beautiful house with a wine cellar and perhaps even a barn as your wedding gift. In fact, I think I’ll still keep the land in Storybrooke and convert it into an orphanage so that when you get married, I’ll move in there, an orphan witcher among other orphans. Doesn’t seem so bad. I’ll have lots of children to keep me company while I find good homes for them.”</p>
<p>Regina’s holds her smile. “And what if my husband is rich and has a far bigger property, with servants that aren’t homunculi? And what if he lives far away?”</p>
<p>That pain in her chest intensifies, making it harder to think. She imagines seeing Regina off, possibly on some huge ship with servants carrying her bags. She imagines waving goodbye at some dock and she sees Regina, happy, in the arms of her husband who has promised the world to her and then some… and he probably can fulfill that promise. She sees Regina waving back at her, all her dreams coming true. She sees Regina pregnant and glowing with pride at the bump on her stomach as she and her husband lovingly caress their unborn child.</p>
<p>She finds that the more she imagines, the worse the pain in her chest becomes that she clutches at it, but a singular thought whispers to her. <em>But Regina is happy in all those scenarios.</em></p>
<p>And really, at the end of the day, that’s all Emma has ever wanted: to make Regina happy.</p>
<p>“You will always have me as a friend, Regina. I will visit as often as I can, of course. But as long as you’re happy, then I am happy for you… Besides, if you get bored, you know where to find me.”</p>
<p>Regina’s smile disappears and something else takes it place. What it means, Emma isn’t sure but Regina doesn’t say anything for a long while so Emma goes back to silently watching her friend unpack things.</p>
<p>After about an hour or so, Regina brings one of the buckets with water at the foot of the bed and Emma sees bubbles. It smells like apples too. Regina goes back to the table and brings the cloths and the second water bucket, this one clear…and also smelling like apples.</p>
<p>She looks at Emma for a second before saying, “Off with your shirt, I need to clean your wounds.”</p>
<p>The way Regina’s voice drops a register, the way it’s almost a whisper, makes Emma swallow and nod dumbly. She grabs the collar of her shirt and pulls it off, wincing, slightly groaning, at the way her wounds protest this movement.</p>
<p>“The water is warm and infused with magic, so I will need you to let it in,” Regina says, still with <em>that</em> voice. “This is going to sting a bit.”</p>
<p>Emma, with much difficulty, shirtless, and very much aware of the knot forming just below her navel, tries to sit still and clear her thoughts. She closes her eyes and as the warm, wet, soapy cloth touches her back, more than the pain, she feels some slight relief that she couldn’t help but moan. She immediately clears her throat, but she doesn’t hear Regina say anything.</p>
<p>The next few minutes is an extreme exercise on Emma’s restraint as Regina does not only wash the wounds on her back, but she proceeds to wipe Emma’s front, arms, and face too. Emma is keenly aware that she’s aroused at this point, especially when Regina wipes the underside of her breasts. Emma’s nipples instantly harden, and her thighs involuntarily rub together, offering Emma some relief.</p>
<p>So, naturally, when Regina tries to pull her trousers off, Emma stops her.</p>
<p>“Uhmm… that’s fine, I think, Regina.” Emma opens her eyes to see Regina looking curiously at her.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“Y—yes. I’m quite sure,” she says, unable to look Regina in the eye. She’s sure won’t be able to explain the wet, sticky, feeling she has between her thighs.</p>
<p>Regina hums. “Well, okay. And your wounds are all closed now so I think there’s no more need for bandages, which is good. Probably about a day’s rest more and you’ll be able to sleep on your back at least.”</p>
<p>“Can’t you give me something for the pain?”</p>
<p>Regina laughs. “And have you walking around and re-opening your wounds? No. Pain, in this case, is your friend. It lets you know that your back is off-limits and should not be abused for it to heal properly.”</p>
<p>Emma rolls her eyes but says nothing. Regina throws her a clean shirt, which reminds Emma…</p>
<p>“Regina, why do you have all these shirts?”</p>
<p>“Oh those are for the guards. You don’t think they’re walking around in armor and nothing else, do you? We have hundreds of those just lying around so I thought a couple or so missing wouldn’t be noticed.”</p>
<p>“They smell like apples. Do you clean them yourself?”</p>
<p>Regina laughs. “No, just these one that I brought you. To be fair, they are quite clean. I just… I just made them up to my standards of clean.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next couple of days sees Emma starting to gingerly walk about. Her back still hurts and any sudden movement causes her to groan and hiss, muttering curses under her breath, but she’s at least able to sit up and walk around without much fuss. Regina teleports in with breakfast, leaves at lunch and comes back well into the evening.</p>
<p>Emma, with due consideration to Regina who doesn’t share her senses, makes sure to keep the candles lit at night so Regina doesn’t teleport in with just the fireplace serving as a light source for the entire lodge. They talk over dinner, with Regina asking questions about Emma’s adventures, the monster’s she’s encountered and about witchers in general. She also hands Regina a list of ingredients she needs to brew her own potions. Regina looks at it curiously.</p>
<p>“These ingredients, I know what they’re for. Aren’t they highly toxic?” Regina asks, frowning.</p>
<p>“Yes, but I keep those potions mostly for security. And I take them one at a time. If I take them together, I’d most likely be dead in less than three minutes,” Emma answers.</p>
<p>“I understand why you need the first one, it intensifies your signs and that’s incredibly useful—”</p>
<p>“With the downside being that it’s also incredibly toxic but go on.”</p>
<p>“—this other one. Black blood? Why would you want to convert your blood into poison?”</p>
<p>“As I said, you never know,” Emma shrugs. “I think I feel much better having it and not needing it than not having it and then suddenly needing it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina still does her nightly chore of wiping Emma down and cleaning her wounds, and Emma lets her. Regina still insists to wipe Emma past her trousers and Emma still says no. Because she’s still not quite sure how to tell Regina about the knot that forms past her trousers whenever Regina comes in contact with her.</p>
<p>By the third day, however, Emma makes the mistake of starting to do some minor patching up around the lodge. With tools she’s requested, she is at least able to make it so the windows can now open and close properly. She also removes the excess ashes from the fireplace and manages, with much grunting, groaning, wincing, and cursing, to dig a pit deep enough to dump it in. She cleans the rest of the small lodge afterwards, washes her hand, and proceeds to eat a late lunch. The effort though tires her and knocks her out that by the time she wakes up, it is already dark and Regina is there, standing by the bedside, looking at her disapprovingly.</p>
<p>“You are covered in soot and dust and dirt. What did you do while I was gone? I thought I told you to rest?”</p>
<p>“Nothing too labor intensive and I didn’t hurt my back at all. I just fixed the windows, since it’s getting colder and we need one that actually opens and closes. I cleaned the fireplace and the rest of the lodge,” Emma shrugs, and then winces.</p>
<p>“And now the trousers you’ve been holding on to for some reason, are dirty too.”</p>
<p>Emma looks down, sees Regina’s bucket and cloth and realizes her mistake.</p>
<p>“But I mean… I can do that for myself now. You don’t need to do it,” Emma says, stammering.</p>
<p>Regina raises a brow. “Alright. Reach for your back. If you can manage to touch the middle of your back and keep your hand there for ten seconds without any verbal or visible sign of discomfort, I’ll let you clean up by yourself.”</p>
<p>Emma looks at Regina in horror. “You really are cruel.”</p>
<p>“Go on. I’m waiting.” Regina taps her foot, ignoring Emma’s comment and folding her arms in front of her. She looks at Emma expectantly.</p>
<p>Emma heaves a deep sigh, focuses, and reaches for her back. Her entire body is rattling off alarm bells, but she bites her tongue and tries to shut it down. She can feel tears forming in her eyes. She knows she’s red all over, but she’d rather suffer that than the embarrassment of letting Regina know the sorry state between her thighs anytime Regina lingers just a little bit too close for comfort.</p>
<p>“Enough, Emma,” Regina groans once Emma’s tears start falling. “I know you think it’s embarrassing that I’m going to see you completely naked but let’s not forget that I’ve actually seen your memory of doing things with women so let’s not pretend that that is less embarrassing. Also, I have seen you completely naked. How do you think I was able to dress you?”</p>
<p>“That’s not—“Emma says but she sighs and gives up. “Fine. Just…if you can make it quick please? I did not suffer my trials just to end up being cared for like a child again.”</p>
<p>“You do understand that I’m doing this because I still feel bad about everything I made you go through, right? Emma, because of me, you had to meet my mother and was convinced to undergo witcher training…something she clearly did not intend for you to survive. And because you knew me, everyone you love is suffering right now. Because of me, you had to be lashed so severely, you can barely move, let alone wash yourself.”</p>
<p>“Regina—”</p>
<p>“And I know I can never make up for everything you’ve gone through because you met me, but at least let me do this, please.”</p>
<p>“That’s not why—” Emma sighs. <em>No more lies, right? </em>“I’m not embarrassed because you’re going to see me naked. And I also don’t want you to think you have some penance to pay just because your mother is a monster. None of this is your fault.”</p>
<p>“So, why won’t you let me wash you properly then?”</p>
<p>“I—” Emma is now looking everywhere but at Regina. “I get aroused,” she says as quickly as she can, hoping Regina wouldn’t catch it. But of course, Regina does.</p>
<p>“Aroused?”</p>
<p>Emma takes a quick glance at Regina before fixing her eyes at the books on the shelves just behind Regina. Regina is looking at Emma with a curious stare that Emma couldn’t understand.</p>
<p>“Y—Yes. So, there…”</p>
<p>“Aroused?” Regina asks again.</p>
<p>“I—look. Y—you know I sleep with women. And you’re a beautiful woman who I may have affections for and you’re touching me and it’s not that easy to ignore your presence when you’re so near me. But I also know that you’re only doing this to take care of me. And I am ashamed, so very deeply ashamed, that you will think I’m some sort of pervert who sexualizes something you do out of the goodness of your heart. So…” Emma rambles and stutters her way, feeling like she needs to dig another pit outside, this time for her and her emotions. She looks down, waiting for Regina’s inevitable judgment of her perversion.</p>
<p>“Emma Swan, did you just confess your feelings for me?”</p>
<p>Emma snaps her head up, her jaw dropping in horror. “I—what?”</p>
<p>“You said you have affections for me. And that you find me beautiful. And that I arouse you. You could not have been any clearer than that.”</p>
<p>Emma sighs. <em>No. More. Lies.</em> “I’ve always had feelings for you, I think. They just grew with me as I did. But that doesn’t mean I expect you to return them. You are free to do as you wish.”</p>
<p>Regina is quiet, her eyes searching Emma’s face. After a few seconds, she says, “Thank you for being honest with me.” She clears her throat. “Now then. Why don’t we have a compromise? Let me clean your back and you can finish the rest yourself. Once you’re done, I’ll help you put your clothes on. Does that sound fair?”</p>
<p>Emma nods and they proceed as planned. The lack of contact though, makes it just about as terrible for Emma as when Regina was touching her. She berates herself, however, and reminds herself that Regina is only being respectful.</p>
<p>The rest of the evening is quiet as Emma begins brewing her potions which would take her a few hours and requires meditation. Regina is at the dinner table, her back to Emma, softly muttering to herself and reading what Emma suspects is one of her ancestor’s journals.</p>
<p>Once Emma’s done, she comes out of her meditative state to find Regina asleep on the table. She tries to shake her awake but Regina, still asleep, swats at her and tells her to leave her alone. Emma ignores this, of course, and gritting her teeth, once again ignoring the screaming pain of her wounds, carries Regina to bed and tucks her in.</p>
<p>She moves the stray hair away from Regina’s face, softly, so as not to wake her, and stares at her friend, committing to memory every inch of this woman she has loved for as long as she can remember, knowing that Regina doesn’t feel the same way.</p>
<p>There’s a certain freedom to it, Emma thinks. Not keeping her emotions in. She’s now free to love Regina as she always had, from a respectful distance, without keeping it a secret. It doesn’t make the rejection feel any better, but it does remove the pressure of hiding it.</p>
<p>And, at least, Regina’s not acting odd about it, which would probably be much worse.</p>
<p>Emma sighs. She moves to the foot of the bed and, foregoing sleep, instead decides to continue her meditation until just before sunrise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she comes to, of course Regina is no longer there. She must have woken up at some point in the middle of the night to teleport home.</p>
<p>Emma spends the morning practicing her sword swings outside, making sure to keep herself inside Regina’s protective spell, and letting herself get used to the pain of her wounds. After that, and with really nothing better to do, she goes down the basement and finds herself astonished at the fact that even this is clean, despite the fact that they never really used it.</p>
<p>It is just as empty as Red’s but a bit more spacious. In her mind, Emma has already mapped out where to install shelves and what else to do with the space.</p>
<p>A part of her feels guilty, of course, being able to hide out here, protected by Regina’s spell, all her needs being met while the rest of the village starves. She knows Regina is feeling the pressure as well but refuses to talk about it, instead focusing on Emma’s speedy recovery. And here she is, squandering it all by being foolish and moving about when she really shouldn’t have.</p>
<p>But she never really grew out of her inability to sit still.</p>
<p>Her reverie is broken when she smells the tell-tale scent of Regina’s power. She hears Regina call out to her.</p>
<p>“I’m down in the basement. I’ll be up in a few seconds,” she answers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Regina, I’ve been thinking,” Emma says as she cleans and polishes her leather armor. Regina brought it with her when she teleported with food and a few more supplies.</p>
<p>“What about?” Regina asks. She is on the dinner table, her hands hovering above a strange circular symbol drawn on a piece of paper. From time to time, a small ball of energy would appear and then would immediately spark out. For a moment, Emma can swear she can see another world inside the ball.</p>
<p>“Do you think you are powerful enough to cast the same protection spell on this lodge over all of Storybrooke?”</p>
<p>Regina frowns. “In theory, yes. But that would take a toll on me and I would probably need a couple of days to recover. Also, they cannot leave the village because that would break the spell, which means they would have to store food for the rest of the week, or however long it takes until we defeat my mother.”</p>
<p>“Do you mind then if I start hunting on your grounds? I can probably gather enough meat for the entire village to ration out for at least a few days. And maybe… maybe we can raid your supplies for grain and wheat so they can have bread too? What do you think?”</p>
<p>“It’s a good plan, except for two very important details.”</p>
<p>“What’s that?”</p>
<p>“They don’t trust me and they don’t know you.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Right.”</p>
<p>Regina hums. “But if you can somehow convince them to believe you, then I suppose it would work. But Emma, we are running out of time. My mother is coming back in four days and we both need to be at our best if we want to even stand a chance against her.”</p>
<p>“Then let me try today. Teleport me outside of Storybrooke. Hide somewhere they won’t find you and let me convince them. If I can’t do that today, then we will abandon this plan and stick to just waiting it out.”</p>
<p>Emma sees Regina bite her lip and she starts pacing, once again muttering to herself.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Regina starts. She takes a deep breath and looks at Emma. “Okay. Do that. I’ll teleport you and wait outside the village. If they agree, and if they promise to cooperate, then we’ll begin preparations right away.”</p>
<p>But Emma knows Regina and despite the bravado, she knows Regina is worried. She can hear the tremble in her voice, see the slight crease in her forehead and the way she’s still fidgeting her fingers.</p>
<p>So, Emma does the only thing that seems to calm Regina down.</p>
<p>She gently pulls on Regina and wraps her arm around her. Emma doesn’t say anything. She never needed to. She just quiets herself and Regina eventually follows suit. She can feel the minute changes in Regina’s body, more pronounced now because of Emma’s witcher senses, the way her muscles relax and her breathing evens out.</p>
<p>“Feel better?”</p>
<p>Regina nods but burrows her head further on Emma’s neck. Emma wishes she had the mental fortitude to ignore the fact that Regina’s breathing, the mere air that she breathes out, is doing a lot of things to her. So, out of respect to her friend, Emma releases her.</p>
<p>Regina, however, reaches out and gently touches Emma’s face. For a second, they stare at each other until Regina leans in and their lips touch.</p>
<p>It is quick and Emma is almost about to doubt that it happened when Regina leans in again, this time wrapping her arm around Emma’s neck pulling her in. It is slow and soft and Emma could tell that Regina is still figuring things out, but it doesn’t matter because no matter how many times Emma has dreamt of what kissing Regina feels like, her wildest dreams will never measure up to how soft and maddeningly gentle Regina’s lips are.</p>
<p>And then she opens her mouth, licks at Emma’s lips and Emma’s world falls apart in the best way possible. She angles her head and their lips lock. Emma is sure they are both going by instinct as her brain is now just humming along pleasantly, just wanting more and more.</p>
<p>She cups Regina’s face with one hand, gently caressing her cheeks, while the other wraps around Regina’s waist, pulling her closer, needing her closer.</p>
<p>And Emma wishes she could go on just kissing Regina but they both have to breathe so they pull apart and for a second, Emma sees something like fire lit inside Regina’s eyes.</p>
<p>They’re both breathing heavily, until Emma asks, “Regina?”</p>
<p>Regina looks both exhilarated and confused and she bites her lips again and Emma thinks she really should stop doing that. Only Emma should be doing that to her… which is an odd thing to think about.</p>
<p>“I read somewhere… it’s for good luck,” Regina says, hesitantly. She releases Emma’s neck, steps back and mutters about trying something.</p>
<p>Emma watches as Regina opens her palm and produces a fireball about as large as the ones in the circular cell when Regina was angry. Emma had to take a couple of steps back and watch the roof in case it catches fire.</p>
<p>“…interesting,” Regina mutters, more to herself, but Emma couldn’t help but hear it.</p>
<p>“What does that mean?” Emma asks.</p>
<p>“I don’t know yet. But when we kissed, I felt a surge of power, something I’ve never felt before. I felt…unstoppable, like I could do anything. I tried to produce a normal fireball, and you saw how that turned out,” Regina answers, brows furrowed in thought. She looks at Emma. “Do you feel anything different? Did I perhaps take some of your powers? Do you feel weaker?”</p>
<p>Emma takes an inventory of herself, flexing her hand and, apart from the pain on her back and the residual giddiness after kissing Regina, she feels fine. In fact, she feels better.</p>
<p>“I—I don’t feel weaker. Besides, I just kissed the woman I’ve been in love with almost my whole life. I feel like I’m floating and my heart is still thrumming along happily,” Emma answers.</p>
<p>Regina is quiet for a moment.</p>
<p>Emma wants to ask what the kiss really meant but she doesn’t want to push Regina who looks confused and solving a puzzle in her head. She thinks she understands. It has taken her a long time to come to terms with how she really felt about Regina so it must be so confusing for Regina now. And Emma doesn’t want to aggravate the situation.</p>
<p>Besides, she thinks now is not the best time for Regina to have an identity crisis. They can figure things out later when they both have all the time in the world.</p>
<p>So, she refocuses on their task at hand and picks up her sword. Normally, she has them strapped to her back but with her present condition, she ties them to her waist instead.</p>
<p>Quietly, Regina helps Emma put her armor on.</p>
<p>“Are you ready?” Regina asks.</p>
<p>“No, but let’s not worry about that right now,” Emma responds honestly.</p>
<p>Regina nods and waves her hand. The portal that appears is twice the normal size of Regina’s portal, almost half the lodge disappearing behind it. Regina gestures for Emma to move towards it and when Emma steps out, she’s standing at the edge of the woods, looking out at the flimsy looking wooden walls of Storybrooke.</p>
<p>Before she steps out of the woods, however, Regina pulls her back in for another kiss, this time with none of the tentativeness or uncertainty of the first. Regina is confident now, and if possible, even more intoxicating, so when they hesitantly pull apart, Emma hears herself whine.</p>
<p>“What was that for?” she asks, smiling.</p>
<p>“I told you, for good luck,” Regina answers and Emma can see her desperately trying to keep a straight face. “Oh, and here,” she hands Emma a small, black stone, with a symbol carved on it. “Once you’re done, hold on to that and call me in your head. I’ll be able to hear you and I’ll be with you in an instant.”</p>
<p>Emma nods. She quickly kisses Regina on the cheeks, whispering, “You’re all the good luck I will ever need,” before sprinting towards Storybrooke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Storybrooke is even more depressing in the morning.</p>
<p>Where there used to be chickens and dogs running loose in the well-worn streets, now there’s nothing but dust bunnies. Before, she couldn’t walk down the road without stopping and saying hi to a few people through open windows. Now all the houses are shuttered close.</p>
<p>But she can sense them, despite the oppressive silence. She knows they are watching. She can hear them breathing, muttering amongst themselves.</p>
<p>She heads straight for Ruby’s house and knocks on the door. They don’t answer but she can hear her bickering with Granny.</p>
<p>“Ruby, it’s me, Svane. I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know you, please go away,” Ruby answers from the other side of the door.</p>
<p>“I filled the buckets and left them near the boulders. Did you find them? Also, I took one of your wineskins, but unfortunately, I lost it,” Emma says. She hears some light footsteps heading for the door.</p>
<p>“What do you want?” Ruby hisses lowly through the door.</p>
<p>“Do you remember an unruly child named Emma Swan? The one who got kicked out of school because she couldn’t sit still and was too slow for lessons? If you can believe it, she can read and write about as well as the next person now.”</p>
<p>Ruby throws open the door, her face contorted in anger. “And what do you know about Emma Swan?” she asks between gritted teeth.</p>
<p>Emma looks at Ruby with a smile. “Ignore the cat eyes for a second and tell me you don’t recognize me.”</p>
<p>Ruby’s face morphs into one of confusion first, then disbelief. “Emma?”</p>
<p>“Hi, Ruby,” Emma says with an easy smile.</p>
<p>Emma is surprised when Ruby grabs her and pulls her in. “What about your parents? If you made it out of the accursed storm that surrounds us, then surely they made it out too.”</p>
<p>Emma furrows her brows. “No. I—I was told they had died. Did they follow me?”</p>
<p>“When they woke up and saw you were gone, they weren’t too worried. That is until they met an old lady who told them she saw you leave the dock using a catboat. Your mother and father immediately came here to ask Granny to watch over your animals. They said they were leaving to see if they can catch you.</p>
<p>“That evening, the Evil Queen appeared and warned us to stay in the island, that anyone who tries to leave will be swallowed up by the storm she has cast around it. As evidence, she showed us a vision of your parents disappearing beneath the waves. She burned your house to the ground and told us that it will serve as a lesson to all of us.</p>
<p>“A few more tried to escape but… they all ended with the same fate. We would find their bodies washed up on shore a few days or weeks later. From there, it got worse…”</p>
<p>Emma can hardly control her shaking now. “And what of my parent’s body?”</p>
<p>It is Granny who answers this time, from the corner of the barely lit house. “We never found them although we did provide graves for all three of you in the cemetery. They are empty still.”</p>
<p>“I have so many questions, but for now, I have a plan. I have found an ally within the Evil Queen’s ranks. The Evil Queen isn’t on the island right now and when she comes back she’s going to be weaker than usual. It’s the perfect time to strike. But we don’t want this village caught in the crossfire so we both agreed to cast a protective spell around it.”</p>
<p>Ruby nods but seems suspicious. “And your <em>ally</em> has a name, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes, but first, hear my plan…’<br/> </p>
<p>Emma explains to Ruby what she and Regina came up with, including the timeline for everything, but always carefully omitting Regina’s name. Ruby tells her that she needs to gather the rest of Storybrooke for this but that might not be the easiest thing.</p>
<p>“They are afraid, Emma. All of us are. Besides, you are asking us to stay within the walls when the Evil Queen asked us to stay within the island. You see how that might not sit well with the rest of us.”</p>
<p>Emma nods but she asks Ruby to summon them just the same. Ruby agrees and tells her to go to the village square and wait for her there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There used to be a raised platform in the village square. But that is gone now. There used to be shops and stalls around it, but there are all locked and shuttered, gathering dust.</p>
<p>Emma finds a small boulder, wide enough for her to stand on. She pushes it where the raised platform used to be and sits on it.</p>
<p>She hears them before she sees them coming.</p>
<p>They are all wearing the same wary and suspicious look on their faces. Emma recognizes all of them. In another time, they were all somewhat happier. But now, their faces are gaunt, hungry, and almost lifeless.</p>
<p>“Ruby? What is the meaning of this? Why have you called us here and who is she?” someone asks. Emma turns to him.</p>
<p>“Archie Hopper, right?” Emma asks. He is balding, but Emma cannot mistake him for anyone else. She stands on the boulder.</p>
<p>“My name is Emma Swan. I used to live here. My adoptive parents are Mary Margaret and David Nolan,” she says and a murmur ripples throughout the gathered crowd.</p>
<p>“Emma Swan is dead. And so are the Nolans,” another one says.</p>
<p>“Belle? Is that you?” Emma asks and Belle looks surprised. “I can’t account for my parents right now, but I am sure I’m not dead. I left the island when I was ten to become a witcher and so became one. I regret that it has taken me this long to travel back.”</p>
<p>“And why should we believe you are who you say you are?” someone from the back asks.</p>
<p>“Because, Kathryn, you don’t have any other choice. My partner and I are the only ones who can save you. We will get rid of the Evil Queen and all we ask is for your cooperation. We will gather and bring as much supplies as we can for the entire town and ask all of you to ration it out so that it lasts three days.”</p>
<p>“What’s with the three days?”</p>
<p>“It’s the only time we have to bring down the Evil Queen. Regardless of whether we are successful or not, the barrier we will erect will only last so long anyways.”</p>
<p>“But if you are unsuccessful, she will come after us.”</p>
<p>Emma nods. “That is entirely possible. But she will not kill you. She relies on your fear and despair, not your death. We will provide you with food and water. We only need your cooperation and your promise not to break the barrier. And to stand guard and make sure no one tries to break it …. And we need your answer now, as we are almost out of time.”</p>
<p>Emma watches with bated breath as they mutter amongst themselves, too many voices to hone in on just one.</p>
<p>A dwarf Emma recognizes as Grumpy steps forward. “Listen, I don’t care if you really are who you say you are. You are telling me, I need to stay inside for three days and not cross the barrier. You are telling me you will give me food for three days. Well, I have been desperately hungry for far longer than three days. So, I honestly don’t care if I die after this. At least I die with a full stomach. So, do what you need to do.”</p>
<p>The murmur of assent travels down the crowd and Emma smiles at them. “For now, I will ask Ruby, Granny and August to work with all of you to ration out the food. I will bring them here by sunset tomorrow. Today, however, I will ask you to please gather as much water as you can while my partner and I keep the monsters at bay.”</p>
<p>“Why can’t we gather water tomorrow as well?”</p>
<p>“Because tomorrow my partner and I won’t be here. You can still gather them but at your own risk. Tomorrow, I will be crossing into the Evil Queen’s hunting grounds and gather as much meat as I can.”</p>
<p>“Do you need a cart and extra hands? I’m sure my aim is still as great as before.” Granny asks and everyone is suddenly quiet.</p>
<p>Emma smiles at the old woman. “I appreciate the offer, and yes I will need a cart, if you have one extra. As for a hunting partner, I already have one. But when all this is over, how would you like to come hunting with me one day?”</p>
<p>Granny scoffs. “Fine. You can take the cart from out back. I’m sure we can find another one to use today.”</p>
<p>Emma nods.</p>
<p>She answers a few more questions before heading to Granny’s and Ruby’s.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the rest of the day, Emma clears a path for the villagers as they form a long chain from the brook to the village, passing out buckets. She can sense Regina somewhere close but always just out of sight. And by the pained yelps of creatures, she knows Regina is also doing her part to keep the villagers safe.</p>
<p>By sunset, Emma thinks she has killed enough wolves and ghouls and drowners to last a lifetime. But she knows there’s more out there and that killing the Evil Queen is just the beginning on the path to Einar’s recovery.</p>
<p>Storybrooke, however, has stacks of barrels with water that smells faintly like apples.</p>
<p>She stays for a couple more hours to discuss what they need to do, says her farewells and promises to come back by sunset the next day with meat and more food, and to erect the barrier.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time she reaches the edge of the woods, dragging Granny’s cart, she is exhausted, hungry, and in desperate need of a bath. Her wounds are screaming for relief and she honestly doesn’t know which of her problems to deal with first.</p>
<p>Only when she needed to call Regina did she realize she had been holding on to her stone the whole day. Regardless, she called on to Regina. As promised, Regina appears beside Emma in a puff of purple haze looking excited.</p>
<p>“Come on home, I’ve prepared something for you,” Regina says, pulling Emma into the vortex. “Leave the cart, we’ll pick it up tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Instead of the lodge however, Emma finds herself in the basement, in the middle of which is a claw-footed tub, large enough for Emma to lie in and only her head would surface. Beside it are barrels of water.</p>
<p>“Regina, did you drag your bathtub here?” Emma asks with quirked brow.</p>
<p>Regina nods with a grin. “After the villagers had finished gathering water, I decided to go back to the castle and take a bath. I knew you would be hungry too, so I asked the servants to bring me food, told them I was hungry and to bring as much as possible. I took a quick bath and thought that you might need one too. So, here…” she gestures around her and the towels neatly folded and stacked on an empty shelf.</p>
<p>“Aren’t you exhausted?” Emma asks, watching as barrels of water tip over the tub at Regina’s command.</p>
<p>“No. I told you, didn’t I? That kiss this morning. I still don’t know how to explain it, but that magic surge is still within me. I’m better able to control it now than I was this morning, but it’s there. I should be exhausted, but I’m not. I do wonder if this will have any unpleasant side effects tomorrow. Lucky for me, I only have to teleport you in and out tomorrow, right?”</p>
<p>Emma nods, still looking at the slowly filling tub. “Yes, you should rest tomorrow, let me do most of the work this time.”</p>
<p>Regina hums. “If you don’t mind, I brought some books I need to read. So, I’ll stay here, and turn around while you take a bath. Call me when you need me to scrub your back.”</p>
<p>“Uhmm—I still need help with my armor,” Emma says sheepishly.</p>
<p>“Oh, right.”</p>
<p>After much fussing, wincing, and Regina calling Emma a baby, Emma is naked, submerged in a tub with bubbles that all smell like Regina.</p>
<p>Regina is in a corner, her back turned to Emma, reading a book.</p>
<p>They spend that evening making small talk over dinner and when it came time to rest, Emma’s jaw hangs slack when Regina tells her that she’s staying the night.</p>
<p>“I mean, it’s not like it will make any difference. I’ll teleport home tomorrow morning, demand breakfast and bring it here. I figured, by the time my mother returns, it will be too late to tell on me, right?”</p>
<p>Emma nods dumbly and turns around when Regina tells her she’s changing to a night dress. The only signal for Emma to turn around is the candles blowing out.</p>
<p>She kneels by the foot of the bed, preparing to meditate when Regina laughs at her and tells her there’s enough space for the two of them. Emma, still thoroughly confused and exhausted, mindlessly walks to the bed and lays beside Regina.</p>
<p>The last thing Emma remembers before she succumbs to sleep is Regina pulling her closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, it’s a dream, Emma reasons when she wakes up the next day and finds Regina gone. But all that reasoning disappears when she sees Regina stepping out of her purple cloud with food.</p>
<p>“I’ve also had time to steal away all the barrels of wheat, grain, and beans. I added a bag of spices too.”</p>
<p>Emma furrows her brow as she bites into her bread.</p>
<p>“Where did you store them?”</p>
<p>“Ruby’s basement,” Regina shrugs. “I’m sure it will be a shock to them when they find that their basement is suddenly filled with food.”</p>
<p>“And you are feeling okay?”</p>
<p>Regina nods. “I can definitely tell that my powers are going back to normal, but I’ve yet to see or feel any negative effects.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. And by the end of it, Emma has a cart filled with deer, rabbits, a few turkeys, and even some fish. She had to spend a few of her potions and an hour meditating the toxic effects away, but it was all worth it, seeing the bright faces on the residents of Storybrooke.</p>
<p>It’s even more worth it seeing Ruby’s face when Emma tells her where the grains are.</p>
<p>“I told you, my partner and I are going to take care of you. Just make sure to ration it out. We won’t be able to get you more until the barrier drops again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By sunset, the town has gathered by the northern gate with Emma. Regina, in a hooded cloak with fur lining, is waiting just outside. She steps out of the gate.</p>
<p>“After my partner has cast the spell, only my partner and I will be able to enter this town. Once again, I need to remind you that you all should stay inside and not break the barrier. Set up guards and keep watch over it. We only ask for three days. Come sunset, on the third day, this barrier will drop.”</p>
<p>“Your partner, she has no name?” Ruby asks, peering at Regina but making sure not to cross the borders.</p>
<p>“None that you will know about. She prefers to keep her good deeds hidden, as she always has,” Emma answers. She nods at Regina who kneels, and puts her hands to the earth, fingers splayed.</p>
<p>She hears the same odd language, coming out of Regina. Heavy winds start whipping around her, lights and symbols dancing along with the wind, and suddenly she’s crackling with so much power, Emma can feel the hairs at the back of her neck rise. The air is suffused with the scent of apples.</p>
<p>The wind and the symbols shoot out and surround the town and in a matter of minutes, Emma could see the faint dome of energy surrounding the town. Regina gestures for Emma to try to cross it.</p>
<p>Emma foolishly does, of course. She walks to the very edge and tries to enter. The next thing she knows, she is flying past Regina and landing on her ass. She tries, one more time, this time with the biggest boulder she can carry and tosses it at the border. The villagers on the other side scatter away, seeing a huge rock hurtling towards them, but it explodes into a shower of dust and smaller stones by the time it hits the border.</p>
<p>“Satisfied?” Regina asks Emma who is still rubbing her ass.</p>
<p>“Yes, very much so.” Emma says with a grin.</p>
<p>“Good, because you’re going to have to carry me home,” Regina says as she collapses to the ground.</p>
<p>Emma hears the villagers on the other side gasp, and she tries to calm them down, as she picks Regina up. “It’s fine, we expected this.” Emma says.</p>
<p>She makes sure Regina’s face is still hidden when she gets up and begins walking home. She doesn’t say goodbye to the villagers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Halfway to their lodge, Regina groans awake.</p>
<p>“Oh good, we’re not there yet,” she murmurs.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I was starting to worry how we’re going to get inside without your portal,” Emma says quietly.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I made you worry.”</p>
<p>“Hush you. You did a good job by the way. That barrier is strong.”</p>
<p>Emma feels Regina nod. “I used a more powerful spell with the surplus power I gained from you.”</p>
<p>“You think if I kiss you now, you’ll feel better immediately?”</p>
<p>Regina laughs weakly. “Tempting as that sounds, I think you should let me recover naturally. I don’t think my body will survive another power surge like that so soon.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you’re right.”</p>
<p>“I also saved us some provisions in the basement, by the way. By now, I think the castle would have discovered the missing food and they will find that I’m gone. They won’t be able to summon my mother, however, because I disabled the crystals they use for that.”</p>
<p>Emma shakes her head in disbelief and awe. “You really have thought of everything, haven’t you?”</p>
<p>Regina hums. “I want you to have Einar back and I will do everything in my power to see it done.”</p>
<p>When Emma and Regina reach the lodge, Regina looks up at Emma. “It is entirely possible that I will not wake up for a couple of days. Please don’t do anything stupid till then. You may start to panic if I’m not awake in two days.”</p>
<p>Emma nods and Regina waves her hand, enveloping them in a cloud of purple mist and promptly passes out again.</p>
<p>As Regina predicted, she doesn’t wake up for precisely forty-eight hours.</p>
<p>And by the time she wakes up, a storm of wind, rain, and some hale is already ravaging Einar.</p>
<p>It is unnatural, unseasonable, and Emma can tell, it is very angry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Fear and Trembling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re awake,” Emma says, fidgeting.</p>
<p>Regina blinks at her for a second. “How long was I asleep?”</p>
<p>“Exactly two days, as you predicted,” Emma is already wearing her leather armor, with her swords on her waist.</p>
<p>Regina blinks again, then looks up, frowning. “Mother’s home.”</p>
<p>“Oh… is that what this is?” Emma says gesturing to the whipping winds and rains visible just outside the lodge’s border. Emma learned, hours ago, when the rain started pouring, that Regina’s spell is near perfect that even the weather does not penetrate it.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Regina says, sitting up and immediately grabbing the plate of food Emma left for her. “She’ll likely come here or Storybrooke first.”</p>
<p>“What are the odds of her breaking through your spell?”</p>
<p>Regina swallows and takes a sip of wine before answering. “If she’s as weak as she normally is when returning, very low. Also, something you said the other day to the people of Storybrooke made me realize something.”</p>
<p>“You were listening?”</p>
<p>“Oh, well… the stone? I told you I will hear you when you’re holding it, right?”</p>
<p>“Right. I wasn’t even aware I was holding on to it the entire time.”</p>
<p>“You weren’t,” Regina answers. “I was momentarily confused when I started to hear you. You were already talking to the people. But you said she relied on their fear and despair… and I thought back to the time I kissed you.”</p>
<p>Emma frowns. “I’m not following you.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re right. My mother, she feeds, quite literally on people’s fear and despair. It’s why she doesn’t outright kill them. She starves them, keeps them on the knife’s edge, but not enough to kill them. I think it’s also why she comes home. She literally recharges her energy here in Einar.”</p>
<p>Something clicks inside Emma’s brain. “And you feed on my love?”</p>
<p>Regina blushes. “Y—yes. I’m still not sure how that happened and how it works out. But yes. Ever since you arrived in Einar, I’ve felt stronger, bolder. The kiss just, I think, intensified it. But being around you makes me powerful, more powerful than I’ve ever managed to be in all my years of training.”</p>
<p>Not really knowing what to say, Emma turns to the matter at hand. “Uhmm, so what do we do now?”</p>
<p>Regina grins. “We go to Storybrooke. I’m sorry, Emma. But we’re going to have to sacrifice this little lodge. She’s likely going to attack both at once.”</p>
<p>Emma shakes her head. “It’s served its purpose well.”</p>
<p>Regina waves her hand and her clothes change into trousers and a thick fur jacket. Her raven hair is tied back and her face set into steely determination. She waves her hand again and the swirling purple cloud appears behind her.</p>
<p>“Are you ready?” she asks.</p>
<p>Emma nods. “Are you?”</p>
<p>“Not yet,” Regina says before stepping forward and pulling Emma into a bruising, hungry kiss. Emma could taste the wine she drank and the apple that just suffuses Regina. She pulls Regina in tighter, her entire being suddenly wishing she could devour Regina right now.</p>
<p>When they part for air, Regina rests her forehead on Emma’s and grins. “So many things can happen in a few hours, and my mother is a liar and thief. She will twist the truth to suit her needs, but I will always choose to believe that you love me. And I would deeply regret it if I don’t tell you how much I love you too.”</p>
<p>“Regina—” but Regina cuts her off with another kiss, this time light and sweet.</p>
<p>“We’ll talk about it later,” Regina whispers before pulling away, nearly dragging Emma with her to the portal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they arrive at Storybrooke, the villagers are already gathered in the square, panicking.</p>
<p>The sight of Emma momentarily gives them hope, until they notice Regina walking closely behind her.</p>
<p>“You’ve brought her here? She’s your partner? Do you know what she’s done to some of us?” Ruby hisses at Emma.</p>
<p>“Yes. She’s told me. She’s punished some of you severely. She’s done the same to me, to be honest. But she’s also kept your water source pure and kept the monsters away from here.”</p>
<p>Regina turns to her with a quirked brow.</p>
<p>“I told you, your magic smells like apples. That shabby wall has a faint smell. It’s not as strong as the one in the lodge, but I guess it’s the best you could do given the powers you had at the time.”</p>
<p>Regina blushes again and looks down. Emma turns her attention back to the mob. “So, you can see. She’s been working hard to protect you from the full wrath of her mother. But she’s had to play a villain in the process.”</p>
<p>“Well, let’s hope that’s true because the Evil Queen is at the gates with a full company of her guards.”</p>
<p>Regina winces. “I can feel her attacking the barrier. It’s going to hold, but it’s not pleasant.”</p>
<p>“How long can you hold it?”</p>
<p>Regina fixes her a steely look. “Indefinitely, if she doesn’t have her guards. She’s coming for me.”</p>
<p>“Okay, keep her busy, I’ll lure her guards.”</p>
<p>She can see Regina about to protest, hesitate, then nod. “I believe in you.”</p>
<p>“Good,” she says with a nod. She turns to Ruby and Granny.</p>
<p>“I need you two to find a way to calm everybody down. I told you, your fear and despair feed the Evi—actually, call her Cora. Do not give her the pleasure of using her title. Her name is Cora Mills. She relies on you being afraid and desperate and she becomes even more powerful because of it. So, do what you must, but keep everyone happy.”</p>
<p>Granny and Ruby look at each other and grin. “Food should work. We’ve been smoking some of the meat you gave us.”</p>
<p>Emma smiles widely. “Yes. That should do it.”</p>
<p>She watches Ruby and Granny turn to the rest of the people and sees Regina standing by the wayside, hands clenched, face set with determination. She looks like she is fighting a battle of wills against herself, but Emma knows better.</p>
<p>She runs to Regina, cups her face and kisses her softly, slowly, and willing to let Regina know how much she is loved. She feels Regina melt in her arms. “It almost feels like cheating, getting to kiss you like this and receiving this much power,” Regina murmurs when they part.</p>
<p>“It’s not cheating if you’ve always done it, we both just didn’t realize it.”</p>
<p>Regina winces again. “Oh, mother’s angry now. I really need you to take care of her little army.”</p>
<p>Emma nods. “Remember: I love you.”</p>
<p>Regina laughs. “I’m not the forgetful one here. I love you too.”</p>
<p>With a flick of her hand, and a purple cloud takes Emma just outside of village wall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Outside, she can see at least twenty of Cora’s guards, attempting to break through Regina’s barrier. She unsheathes her steel sword and starts banging it on the wall, shouting at all of them.</p>
<p>For a moment, Emma’s heart hitches as everyone, including Cora who was hovering above her guards, arms outstretched towards the wall, turns to look at Emma.</p>
<p>Cora hasn’t changed since Emma last saw her. She still has that hateful, malevolent smirk. Her red and white lace dress fits her perfectly. But Emma can see shadows under her eyes and her complexion is a bit sallow.</p>
<p>She feels fear creep to her veins but shakes her head and remembers Regina. “I’m not afraid of you, Cora Mills.”</p>
<p>“Little Emma Swan?” she sneers. “I see you really did become a witcher. It doesn’t matter. You are just one witcher against a full company of guards.” In another tongue, she hisses at her guards, half of which turn to Emma.</p>
<p>Emma turns to run, pauses, kills off the closest two guards and runs off again. She repeats the same strategy she used with the ghouls a few days earlier, except this time, her enemy has swords. Swords that get stuck in trees. She thinks about using her Signs but opts to conserve her stamina. Instead, she uses the terrain and her superior senses to her advantage, and despite the freezing, torrential rain, the mud starting to form on the dry earth, she manages to kill every single one of them before running back to the wall to lure the rest of the guards.</p>
<p>The second batch fairs about as well as the first one and Emma is about to gloat when she notices a figure running towards the gate. She narrows her eyes and her heart stops before she desperately sprints.</p>
<p>She sees August crying and walking towards the border, slowly, as if in a trance. He is shambling, mumbling something Emma couldn’t hear.</p>
<p>She wills herself to run faster, jumping at August, but it’s too late. August crosses the border and right before Emma’s eyes, the dome heaves and disappears in a crackle of power. She hears the panicked cries from inside as the rain finally pours down on them.</p>
<p>To make matters worse, Emma sees Cora’s guards slowly, one by one, standing up. She doesn’t have time to worry about it now, however, as she runs towards the village square. She looks around and finds Regina on her knees, clutching at her head, mouth open in a silent scream. She gathers her in arms.</p>
<p>In her peripheral she sees the panicked villagers slowly backing away as Cora’s guards advance.</p>
<p>She sees Cora floating just above them, a circle of pure energy protecting her from the rain.</p>
<p>“Why are you doing this?” Emma asks, trying to stall for time as she figures out what she’s going to do.</p>
<p>Cora’s smile is malevolent. “Because my daughter loves you. And I intend to stamp out everything that gives my daughter hope.”</p>
<p>“So, you tricked a ten-year-old to almost kill herself to try and prove herself worthy of your daughter’s friendship, and then kill her parents too? How does that help you?”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t, in fact if anything it made it worse. Because Regina decided to instead put all her emotions into protecting this little town and that dilapidated hut,” Cora says with a scoff.</p>
<p>“Wait. You don’t want the villagers afraid and desperate. You only want Regina to be afraid and desperate. You are feeding off <em>her</em> fear and despair. You’re afraid that she’s becoming too powerful for you to control… and you can’t have that.”</p>
<p>Cora sneers at her. “I know what you’re doing, but I think it’s too late.”</p>
<p>She stretches her hand towards Regina who begins screaming, her eyes milky, her body writhing and tensing in intervals. She puts up her other hand and roots, thorny and sharp spring from the ground, trapping the villagers in their place as Cora’s guards slowly advance.</p>
<p>“Little Emma Swan, I will give you a choice. You can only save one: Regina, or your beloved villagers. You will dictate who gets to live and who gets to die,” Cora says, her voice flat and cold, colder than the winds and the rain.</p>
<p>“Ah but before you answer. I must tell you something else. If you choose Regina, I will kill off every single Storybrooke citizen, including them.” She gestures at her homunculi guards and they tear off their helmets.</p>
<p>Emma’s heart stops at the familiar figures standing before her, their wavy, dirty blonde hair and kind blue eyes.</p>
<p>“F—Father?”</p>
<p>Cora’s laugh is mirthless. “Homunculi clones. No doubt Regina has told you about them. I thought your father is the right stature for perfect guards. Your mother’s clones are my castle servants. Regina doesn’t know of course. She’s never seen the guards without their helmet and the servants without their veils.”</p>
<p>“You are cruel,” Emma says, trembling. She cannot feel the winds and rain anymore. All she sees is her father and Regina. Despair is starting to creep into her skin but she shakes it off.</p>
<p>“Yes, now choose. Or I will choose for you.”</p>
<p>Emma focuses. She knows the right choice. It is the only choice. She looks at Regina’s figure in her arms, writhing and screaming. She kisses the top of Regina’s head and whispers, “Remember: I love you.”</p>
<p>She checks her potions and pulls out two bottles, their colors menacing.</p>
<p>She looks at Cora directly before downing Black Blood and Petri’s Philter at the same time. The effect is instantaneous, its toxicity eating at her. She knows she’s not going to last long, but she doesn’t need much time, after all.</p>
<p>She runs towards her father’s clones, casts three Yrden signs around them, binding the entire company completely. She casts Igni and watches as the clones writhe and squirm as they burn, despite the rain. She then turns to Cora, focuses the last of her strength and casts Aard.</p>
<p>It shouldn’t have worked. It couldn’t have worked. She knows Cora’s shield is most likely just as strong as Regina’s but it was a risk she was willing to take. And it paid off.</p>
<p>She sees Cora fly back, breaking her barrier. Emma grabs the opportunity and with her eyes failing, her body succumbing into darkness once again, she cuts her wrist and jams it on Cora’s mouth, squeezing her nose and forcing her to drink Emma’s blood.</p>
<p>“Don’t let me find you in the afterlife,” Emma says, looking at Cora’s horrified eyes and Emma thinks, it’s really not a bad way to die. <em>Regina’s safe. Everyone is safe…</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>We turn the time back a few minutes earlier and Regina is on her knees.</p>
<p>It is taking all her power to keep her mother off the barrier she’s created but the fear of Cora has taken hold of everyone including her. But she remembers Emma.</p>
<p>She remembers how hard Emma struggled, how hard she’s struggling even now. She never told Emma…</p>
<p>When they were going through her memories, she felt everything that Emma felt. She felt Emma’s loneliness, her unfailing hope, and the love she held for Regina that grew slowly and steadily with time. She felt the torture she went through to become a witcher but knew that Emma had only one thought during the entire ordeal: <em>Regina.</em></p>
<p>Regina felt inadequate then. None of her sacrifices will ever amount to what Emma went through and she felt unworthy of this woman who was very much willing to suffer all because she thought it would make her Regina’s equal. She should have told Emma then… She should have let her know that Emma will always be better than her.</p>
<p>But Emma loves her.</p>
<p>And she loves Emma back.</p>
<p>So, Regina holds on to this one thought as her mother once again invades her mind.</p>
<p>
  <em>You don’t deserve her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You don’t deserve to be loved.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There are no happy endings to be found here.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She is too pure, too good, too selfless for a liar like you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You will taint her with your powers and your heart will corrupt hers.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Emma Swan deserves better than you. You know this.</em>
</p>
<p>Regina listens as the thoughts keep pouring in, but she doesn’t dwell on them. She holds on to the one truth that matters: Emma loves her. She loves Emma.</p>
<p>But suddenly, she hears Emma screaming in the distance and she opens her eyes to see August, fully under Cora’s control, walking past the border, and breaking the spell.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the full weight of Cora’s power bears down on Regina and all she knows is white hot searing pain. Vaguely she can hear Emma call to her, but it feels broken, staggered. The pain increases and she can’t help the scream that rips from her mouth. It is endless, unbearable, and all-consuming.</p>
<p>Until she hears it… a single voice that breaks through her torment. A child’s voice. It feels like warm summer afternoons, tastes like wild berries. The voice feels peaceful and alive. She remembers stories of placid waters and distant shores. She remembers holding hands that were hard and calloused even for a child, as they trace out letters in parchment papers.</p>
<p>And then there’s darkness and despair and it swallows everything in an instant but Regina will not let it.</p>
<p>The voice echoes… “Remember: I love you,” before it disappears.</p>
<p>Regina’s power surges in a desperate bid to overcome the darkness and she feels something break, like glass crackling, shattering into tiny pieces before even her power overtakes her and for a moment she passes out.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regina blinks. She feels like she’s just lost something significant, like there’s a gaping hole where her heart should be.</p>
<p>The pain in her head, the darkness, the whispered lies all disappear. The winds and torrential rain stop and suddenly it is quiet, <em>too quiet</em>. She looks around and finds the horrified villagers, staring ahead of them. She follows their gaze and sees the charred remains of her mother’s guards.</p>
<p>She turns to Ruby. “Where is Emma?”</p>
<p>With a trembling hand, Ruby points ahead of her, to blonde hair and black leather armor and time stops for Regina. She waves her hand and teleports to Emma’s side.</p>
<p>She pulls Emma off her mother. She sees the cut wrist, and her mother’s expression. She feels for a pulse on Emma and finds none.</p>
<p>“No,” she whispers. And then loudly, “No! Emma Swan, you stupid child, I swear to all the powers in this realm, I will murder you if you die right now.”</p>
<p>In her head, Regina knows it’s too late. She can’t feel Emma’s pulse anymore and her chest is still. But she has to try something—anything—so she rummages in Emma’s potion pouch and finds a bottle with yellow liquid. She pulls the cork out, pries Emma’s mouth open, and forces the liquid down her throat. “<em>Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.”</em> Regina mutters quietly, praying to whoever is listening, if anybody is even listening.</p>
<p>She searches some more and finds a couple of deep red concoction. She opens both and repeats the same procedure, ending with her begging to any entity listening. But Emma remains still, the blood from her wrist has stopped flowing.</p>
<p>“Emma Swan,” Regina says softly, her voice breaking, choking as the tears fall. “I know you’re there. You promised me you weren’t going to die until you fixed our lodge. The roof is still in need of patching and the door still looks awful. So, you can’t die. You promised and you never go back on your promise. It’s your stupid promise that got us here in the first place, so fix this and wake up. Please.”</p>
<p>She gathers Emma in her arms, cradling her head.  She bends down to kiss Emma’s forehead, softly. “There’s still a farm, a barn, and the lodge’s extension. You promised those as gifts on my wedding day. And I don’t intend on marrying anyone but you, so wake up and finish your damned wedding gift for me so we can get married. Please.”</p>
<p>“Emma, please. You promised… please.”</p>
<p>Regina’s vision blurs as she cradles Emma’s lifeless body, holding on to the last of its warmth, tears streaking down her face. She kisses Emma’s lips and an overwhelming amount of emotions surge out of her. She feels the ground beneath her shake, vaguely she can hear the villagers scream in panic, but Regina doesn’t care. All that matters at that moment is Emma is gone. The world can go to whatever hell it wants to go to and Regina wouldn’t notice.</p>
<p>All she knows is the body she’s holding in her arms and Regina weeps.</p>
<p>“You broke your promises Emma…”</p>
<p>The shaking intensifies and the houses around her crumble. She can hear some of the villagers pleading for her to stop, but she can no longer control her own emotions. All she feels is pain and loss as she sobs loudly.</p>
<p>“You can stop now, Regina, I think everybody gets the point.”</p>
<p>Regina blinks and looks down. The shaking stops abruptly.</p>
<p>Emma’s green cat eyes stare back at her and she feels Emma’s warm, calloused hands reach up to wipe her tears. “You know you’re going to have to fix the entire village, right?”</p>
<p>“Emma?”</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Emma’s eyes are closed now,</p>
<p>“Is this real or am I dead too?”</p>
<p>Emma laughs, her childish, stupid, carefree laugh that Regina loves so much. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Regina. All I know is that my back still hurts, my other hand is useless until my wrist heals, and you kissed me while I was sleeping. It feels romantic.”</p>
<p>“So, you’re not dead?”</p>
<p>“No, I still have a lot of promises to keep. But if I close my eyes and pretend that I’m asleep or dead, will you kiss me again?”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to pretend. I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Emma nods, then promptly passes out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Emma wakes up in an unfamiliar room.</p>
<p>Balcony on one side, and the rest of the room is almost entirely lined with shelves and shelves of books. The bed is wide, immaculately comfortable and smells like apples. To her side, however, she sees two familiar figures, smiling at her.</p>
<p>“Mother? Father?”</p>
<p>She tries to sit up but the world spins slightly and she’s forced to lay back down.</p>
<p>“Regina says you’d do that,” her father grins at her.</p>
<p>“She also says you’re going to try harder in which case we should threaten you with either grievous bodily harm or starvation,” her mother adds when Emma tries to sit up again.</p>
<p>They both haven’t changed much, except they looked gaunt and their hairs are streaked with gray.</p>
<p>Emma shakes her head. “She found you…”</p>
<p>“I imagine it wasn’t easy, but she explained that when she saw what the homunculi looked like, she worked it out for herself and found us in her mother’s private chambers,” her father says.</p>
<p>“Did she say you couldn’t hug me?”</p>
<p>David and Mary Margaret looked at each other before enveloping their child.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, I left,” Emma mutters, tears falling down her face.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, honey, let’s forget about that and move forward,” her mother says.</p>
<p>“Uhmm.. so where’s Regina?”</p>
<p>“Fixing Storybrooke,” her mother says. “We haven’t seen it for ourselves, but Regina says she did more damage to the town in her grief, than her mother ever did in fifteen years. But she’s almost done with rebuilding the ruined houses. Tomorrow, she says the village will be starting on building better walls.”</p>
<p>“How long was I out?”</p>
<p>“Four days,” her father supplies. “Once that’s done, I think we will start making boats again so we can buy farm animals and seeds from the mainland again.”</p>
<p>“Sounds good,” Emma says, nodding slightly.</p>
<p>They talked throughput the evening, until Mary Margaret had to leave to begin preparing for dinner.</p>
<p>And instead of having dinner at a proper table, David, Mary Margaret, and Regina, sat beside Emma’s bed that evening and ate with Emma.</p>
<p>Later that evening, Emma also finds out that Regina’s been sleeping beside her.</p>
<p>“This is my bedroom, after all, and the woman I love is sleeping in it. Why should I sleep somewhere else?” Regina answers when Emma asks if she’s sure.</p>
<p>She also discovers that Regina is a hugger and a cover hog, which Emma absolutely adores.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s been a couple of weeks since Emma nearly died. And now, Emma and Regina are standing outside of the lodge, looking at it curiously.</p>
<p>“You know,” Regina starts. “I know someone with a castle.”</p>
<p>Emma turns to her. “You do?”</p>
<p>“Mhm. It’s overlooking a cliff. And I heard she’s looking for a wife.”</p>
<p>Emma wraps an arm around Regina. “And uhhh, what would this person take as a dowry?”</p>
<p>Regina taps her chin, as if deep in thought.</p>
<p>“You think if I fix this place up, she’ll accept it?” Emma asks.</p>
<p>“I happen to know she was promised a small farm with a barn and a garden,” Regina says.</p>
<p>“That can be arranged,” Emma grins.</p>
<p>“I guess you better start working on it then.”</p>
<p>Emma hums. “You think she’ll be fine with a witcher as a wife?”</p>
<p>Regina turns to her, pulls her in kisses her softly. “I hardly think it matters, so long as her wife is you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes, I know Black Blood affects monsters only. But I mean come on... Cora's a monster here.</p><p>I hope you liked the story though.</p><p> </p><p>Follow me on  <a href="https://twitter.com/TheLazyBam">Twitter</a>  and learn how I manage not to sleep even when I'm super sleepy. ^__^</p></blockquote></div></div>
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